Involuntary Getaway
by Book.Wretched
Summary: A Romitri fanfic that takes place after Last Sacrifice. All Dimitri wanted was a romantic getaway, but things rarely go according to plan when Rose Hathaway is involved. How much trouble can two deadly dhamphirs really get into in a foreign country? You might just be surprised when you find out the answer... Beta read by RomitriIsMyMaximumMortalFlaw
1. Chapter 1

I can hear the soft pattering of rain on the roof and in my subconscious state of bliss, I burrow further under my warm blankets. The mattress cradles me like an embrace, but I'm only dimly aware of it. My mind floats in that glorious limbo between sleep and waking.

"Rose."

"Mmmgghssh," I reply, nestling my head under my pillow to avoid what I know is coming.

"Rose, wake up."

His voice penetrates through several layers of my peaceful slumber and I feel my brow furrow.

"Nuh uh," Is my slightly more comprehensive response.

I hear a sigh followed by the swish of fabric as he walks away. I hum contentedly to celebrate my small victory and roll onto my other side, smiling into my pillow.

"Rose!" he yells, unexpectedly right by my ear.

"Shit!" I scream, as I start awake. My muscles coil instinctively and my arm flies out to strike my assailant. Dimitri catches it with ease and hauls me upright, pressing me against his body until I can remember how to use my legs and calm my racing heart.

The first thing my sleep-addled brain registers is his quiet laughter, and I bristle with indignation.

"Good morning," he says, like I'm missing some joke.

On one hand, his chest is really warm and I want to stay here all day, but on the other, I really want to hit him for almost giving me a heart attack. I decide on a compromise, throwing my arms around his neck to bring myself closer while taking care to knock his collar bone with my skull.

It's his turn to curse now, and I watch with satisfaction as he partially untangles me in order to rub the afflicted area.

"You were saying?" I say smugly, and he shoots me a glare that softens into a smile.

"It was a good morning until you head-butted me," he says drily.

"Well maybe you shouldn't have scared the living crap out of me then," I reply.

He laughs. "Touché," he concedes, leaning down to kiss me.

He smells incredible; that heady mixture of aftershave and Dimitri, and his lips are soft against my own, tasting of coffee and mint. Toothpaste?

I pull back, examining him more thoroughly now that I'm partially alert. He's already fully dressed, despite the early hour, apart from his duster which hangs from its accustomed hook by the door.

"There's coffee in the kitchen," he informs me, not noticing my scrutiny. "I just made a fresh pot."

Though the prospect of a steaming mug of dark liquid in my hands makes me salivate, my feet feel like they're made of lead.

"Just give me a minute to wake up," I tell him, stifling a yawn as my adrenaline burst starts to wear off.

"We don't have all morning," he teases.

I roll my eyes and pull away from him, trudging through to the kitchen while he walks behind me.

He hands me a mug as I slump into a chair, pouring himself his second cup of the day before sitting down opposite me.

I take a sip and feel the warmth course through me, animating my tired limbs and brain. I used to hate the stuff, but one does not simply live with Dimitri and have any choice in the matter. Feeling much more sentient already, I look up at him.

"How come you were awake so early?" I ask.

Through the window behind him, the orange sun has just started its descent. The vampiric day only starts in a couple of hours.

"I'm helping Guardian Callum write up her report," he replies absently, distracted by his thoughts.

I frown. Emily Callum is a new guardian, fresh out of training, and already in possession of half the hearts of the male population of Court. The only thing that rivals her massive intellect is her cup size.

"Is that so," I say rhetorically, failing miserably in my attempt to keep my tone neutral.

He glances up, confused, but a smirk spreads across his face at the sight of my expression.

"I did decline her original offer to meet at her apartment," he says, nonchalantly sipping his coffee. "She was surprisingly persistent, but I persuaded her in the end."

"I'll bet she was," I mutter darkly into my cup, eliciting a laugh from Dimitri.

We sit in companionable silence for a bit until a though occurs to me.

"Why did you have to wake me up early?" I ask. "You could have let me sleep in a little."

An odd expression crosses his face, but then it's gone.

"What," he says, raising an eyebrow. "Leave you to your own devices and let you sleep through all your shifts until lunch time?"

"Haha," I reply sarcastically, but I have to admit that he has a point.

I get up to fetch myself some cereal, returning to my seat to see a conflicted expression on his face.

"Everything okay?" I frown, slurping up a spoonful of cereal.

"Oh," he replies, "Yes, everything's fine. It's only…" There's a distinctly shifty look in his eyes and I narrow my own.

"What?" I ask, growing suspicious.

"I wanted to talk to you before I left," he tells me, looking at the table.

He looks nervous. And badass Russian god that he is, anything that makes him nervous is cause for concern.

I put my spoon down and fold my arms, waiting.

He takes a deep breath. "Rose," he begins, then falters. "I've been… thinking."

I feel a surge of panic, bubbling up and choking me so that my breath hitches in my throat. Surely he can't mean…? Then Emily Callum's face swims briefly through my mind and anger rips through me, burning away my fears and clouding my mind in a red haze. I will tear off his skin and turn it into a leather duster.

"Um…" he says, but I cut him off.

"Comrade," I say, my voice icily calm. "If you're breaking up with me, I swear-"

His eyes go wide, but he assures me before I finish.

"No," he says with a shaky laugh, "Nothing like that. Although, I am curious. What would you do?"

"Pray you never find out," I tell him simply.

He nods, apparently gathering his now scattered thoughts.

"Rose," he starts again. "I know we've discussed it before, but you and I both have… vacation time saved up, and-"

So that's what this is about.

"No," I interrupt.

It seems he expected this reaction, and he steels himself for another attempt.

"It'll expire if we don't-"

"That doesn't matter," I say simply. "The answer's still the same."

His frustration is starting to show. "Will you let me finish?" he challenges.

"I won't leave her," I reply, shaking my head.

"And I'm not telling you to," he retorts. "I just wanted to talk about it."

"There's nothing to talk about," I say and his jaw visibly clenches.

He looks away from me in an effort to calm himself.

After a moment he speaks again, his tone forced. "You're being unreasonable," he says.

"No," I reply, as my temper ignites, "I'm thinking of my duty."

"Are you implying that I'm not?" he demands.

I narrow my eyes. "Well you seem awfully eager to leave Christian undefended."

"He wouldn't be undefended, Rose! In case you haven't noticed, we aren't the only guardians in this fucking palace," he snaps, slamming his palm on the table to emphasise his point. Then he sits back in his chair, crossing his arms and glaring at the ceiling.

His response catches me by surprise. "What about 'they come first'?" I ask, confused.

"Not always," he replies bitterly, echoing his words from a long time ago.

The memory of that conversation dissolves my anger, and as I watch him attempting to control his emotions, suddenly I can't stand the thought of continuing our fight.

I reach tentatively across the table to lay a hand on his arm. His tendons are taut and solid beneath my fingertips, but he doesn't acknowledge my touch.

"But the other guardians weren't taught by the best," I say gently, a smile in my voice.

He stares at the wall, then sighs. Closing his eyes, he puts his face in his palms, as if seeking the sanctuary of darkness.

"I have to go," he says quietly, before shaking off my hand and rising from his chair. My irritation returns in response to his snub.

I glower at my cereal, listening to the front door open and shut.

 _How can he be mad at me?_ I think indignantly, stabbing at my cornflakes with my spoon.

Surely he can understand? Lissa is my best friend. We're way closer than he and Ivan ever were, and look what Ivan's death did to him. If I went away and something were to happen to her, it would crush me. There's no way I can allow it to happen.

 _But just imagine,_ says a tiny traitorous voice in my head, _You could rent a cabin in the woods, somewhere emote. Just the two of you, no distractions._

I push the thought out of my mind, sternly reminding myself that it's impossible. Maybe in a different world, where bloodthirsty, soulless monsters of the night weren't hell bent on hunting down and killing my charge… Maybe I wouldn't even have a charge in that world. But this is real life, and as such, I have a responsibility to Lissa as my friend and queen.

 _Even so,_ I muse as I wash the dishes, after I've had a chance to calm down again. _Maybe we can compromise. Find a middle ground, like just a weekend away? I could live with that._

I finish drying the cups and put them away. A quick glance at my watch tells me it's almost time for my shift and I still need to get ready.

Much happier now that I've thought of a solution, I resolve to discuss it with Dimitri when I see him.

I let my residual irritation flow with the water down the drain as I pull the plug. We'll be okay, Dimitri and I, we've been through worse.

But the little voice is back in my head.

 _Will you?_

* * *

Author's Note

* * *

 **Thanks for reading, I really hope you enjoyed it! If you did (or didn't and have some criticism) please leave a review to let me know! You have no idea how much your support means to me. I know people always say that, but it's really true, I love hearing from you guys! I would also recommend favouriting me and the story, but then again, I may be slightly biased.**

 **I'm planning to do a couple of chapters for this one, I've decided to stray from my normal one-shot-writer status.**

 **Shout out to my astounding Beta reader, NB313! Her material is awesome, you should head on over to her profile and see for yourself.  
**

 **I don't own Vampire Academy, or any of the characters, but I thank Richelle Mead profusely for providing such a great story to play around in.**


	2. Chapter 2

"Hey, Liss," I call as I walk through the ornate double doors into her study.

She looks up when I enter, smiles briefly and then returns to her computer. I figure she's working on some royal project or whatever and decide that it's best not to disturb her.

I walk over to her desk and take my accustomed place next to the large window, while Lissa mutters unintelligibly to herself.

As she works, my mind idles back to the fight I had with Dimitri this morning. My subconscious seems to take particular delight in bringing up the recurring image of his expression; his jaw clenched and his eyes sparkling with fury, tendrils of dark brown hair escaping its tie and hanging in his face to give him a dangerously wrathful kind of beauty. Needless to say, I don't appreciate the reminder.

I force the thought out of my head, willing myself to return my attention to the scene before me. It takes more effort than it should, but my eyes sweep the room, dwelling on the darker spaces that would make good hiding places for an assassin.

Under the bed, behind the bookshelf, in the closet with the doors ajar. Beneath the desk, out the window, behind the curtain fluttering softly in the slight breeze. I complete the circuit and start again, getting into a rhythm. Under the bed…

"Yes!" screams Lissa suddenly, her tone making me leap into action before I have the time to register what she said.

She jumps up, clapping her hands and dancing towards me. I pocket my stake just before she flings her arms around me in a tight hug.

"I did it!" she yells right into my ear, and I flinch.

Then she's out the door, calling Christian's name in jubilation. Before I can follow her, she's back, dragging a confused Christian by the wrist.

"Lissa, what?" he asks, but she doesn't reply. When they reach her computer she releases him and gestures to the monitor.

"See?" she says, "It's right there on the screen."

Christian looks to see what she's talking about and then his mouth pops open.

"What?!" he exclaims. "It took me two months to get that score!"

"Well I just beat it," Lissa replies smugly.

"No way!" he protests. "You cheated!"

"Seriously?" I call, "You guys are arguing about a high score on some video game?"

"My high score now," Lissa crows, pulling a tongue at Christian's scowl.

I shake my head at their antics, but I can't help smiling a little too.

I check the room again by reflex and my smile fades as I meet the brown eyes across from me.

Stealth master that he is, Dimitri had obviously slipped in quietly behind Christian while I was distracted. Lissa and Christian continue their argument behind me, but they might as well be on another planet. The only thing that matters is the eyes that stare right through me.

All memories of a compromise drain out of my head in light of how he's treating me. Like a sulky child that didn't get his way.

 _Look at me!_ I scream in my head. _Look at me, you Russian bastard!_

Either my frustration is clear on my face, or Dimitri now knows me well enough to read my mind. His gaze hits me like a physical blow, the icy indifference like a blade in my skin. It's all encompassing, captivating. I can't look away or even move. I've stopped breathing.

And then, in an instant, he releases me. His eyes slide over mine and he pulls his mask back in place, leaving me shocked and confused. Is he seriously blowing this that far out of proportion? I'm the one who picks fights all the time and he's always calm, the voice of reason. Why has he chosen this battle, the one thing that he knows I can never give up?

"What's wrong with you two?"

Lissa's voice breaks through my thoughts. Our silent conversation had only gone on for a few seconds, and I'm surprised she noticed. But I'll be damned if I'll tell her, I know whose side she'd take.

"Nothing," I say evenly.

Lissa looks from me to Dimitri and back again, clearly concerned.

"Are you guys fighting?" she asks, her brow furrowed.

Dimitri stares straight ahead and I feel a fresh wave of annoyance.

"No, Liss, it's nothing," I say, willing her to drop it.

But of course, being the same persistent person as always, she ignores me.

"Rose," she says with a frown. "Tell me what's going on."

Christian lightly squeezes her shoulder and shakes his head, but if she sees it she ignores him.

I shake my head firmly. "Not this one," I tell her, "We'll work this out on our own."

I see Dimitri's jaw clench out the corner of my eye. Lissa opens her mouth to speak again, but Christian jumps in.

"Leave it," he says gently. "Rose says it's nothing. And now," he continues in a brighter tone, "I have a high score to beat. Vengeance will be mine! Belikov, away!"

Dimitri obediently follows Christian out the room, smirking slightly at his fist raised in righteous anger.

 _Great,_ I grumble to myself. _It's just me that gets the cold-shoulder then._

As soon as they're out of sight, Lissa rounds on me.

"What did you do?" she accuses.

Her tone immediately gets my back up, and my resolution to remain silent flies out the window.

"What?" I exclaim, all traces of professionalism vanishing like vapour. "Why do you assume it's me?"

She rolls her eyes. "There are only two things that are capable of making him that mad," she says, "You and Strigoi. And if there were any Strigoi in the vicinity, I'd be locked up in a bunker somewhere."

"That's totally unfair," I splutter.

"What did you do?" she repeats, ignoring my outrage

I take a breath, trying to control my emotions. I can see she isn't going to let this go.

"Liss," I say, "Just stop. You aren't going to win this one."

She studies my expression for a long moment. "Fine," she replies huffily.

She pulls out her cellphone, ignoring me entirely, which goes on for the rest of the morning. I just stand by the window, searching for threats- under the bed, behind the bookshelf, in the closet with the doors ajar- while Lissa sits with a stormy expression, texting furiously.

 _Nice work, Hathaway_ , I commend myself sarcastically. _Why don't you just call up Sydney and Adrian, and make them mad too? Then we can all have fun on this hate-on-Rose-day bandwagon._

When it's time for Lissa's council meeting, I follow her to the throne room and stand along the wall with the other guardians, trying my best to tune out the exceedingly dull arguments issuing from the mouths of the royals around me.

Eventually, when everyone's tired of hearing themselves talk, the guardians join their charges and start leading them off. But everyone stops in their tracks when Lissa's voice rings out from the throne.

"Guardian Hathaway, a word."

The room falls silent as all eyes swivel to where I'm standing, unobtrusive and unimportant until a few seconds ago. Obediently, I peel away from the wall and stride purposefully towards the small door located near the throne, carefully keeping my face blank and professional.

They all know that she and I are best friends, and I can count the amount of times she's addressed me by my official title on one hand. Evidently she's going for the stately and aloof approach, and as I walk up the steps, I decide that two can play at that game.

"Yes, Your Majesty?" I simper, bowing before her and closing the door behind me.

"Rose," she frowns, "Don't do that."

She's sitting at the table on an ornately carved chair. Portraits of rich Moroi watch the scene unfold from their golden frames around the walls.

"Do what?" I say mockingly, "I hope I didn't do anything to offend Her Royal Highness?"

I put a hand over my heart and stage an expression of extreme penitence.

She rolls her eyes. "I just want to talk," she says.

"Fine," I grouch, dropping the act and plopping down into an equally beautifully engraved chair opposite her.

"Are you and Dimitri okay?" she asks, concern showing plain on her face.

"I'm not telling you what our fight was about," I warn her, but she smiles.

"That's okay," she says, "I just want to know about you."

I sigh. "You know how much I love him, how I'd do almost anything for him, right?"

Lissa nods. "Of course," she says with wide eyes, "Anyone can see how crazy you two are about each other."

I smile weakly at her choice of words. Crazy's definitely one way of putting it.

"Well, I know he's normally really low maintenance," I tell her. "But this time, he wants something that I can't give in to. And he seems really upset, even though I thought he'd understand." I frown.

She's silent for a moment. "I get why you'd think that," she says eventually. "I mean, after all that stuff with Ivan…"

My guard is immediately back up.

"What does Ivan have to do with this?" I ask, suspicious.

She looks resigned. "Don't be mad," she says.

"Are you saying I have a reason to be?" I accuse, and she winces slightly.

"Rose…" she begins, but I cut her off.

"You know," I say, watching her hesitate before nodding in response. "How?"

"Who do you think I've been texting all morning?" she answers sheepishly.

My response is almost a growl. "Dimitri," I say softly.

I can feel my anger returning, forming a hard ball in the pit of my stomach.

"I can't believe him!" I explode, slamming my fist on the table and making Lissa jump. "He knows how I feel about this, and he went over my head anyway?!"

She smirks a little. "It couldn't have been that difficult, seeing as he's a whole foot taller than you."

I shake my head, glaring at her until her smile fades.

"Sorry, that wasn't helpful," she says. "But why are you so against taking a little time off?"

How can she even be asking me this?

"It's my duty," I reply. "If I'm not protecting you, I'm not doing my job. Guardians can't afford to take time off."

My words appear to sadden her, and she looks down at the table.

"What?" I ask. "This is what I trained for, Liss. I won't leave you!"

She shakes her head.

"This is one of the things I want to change," she says softly, almost like she's speaking to herself.

Her tone throws me off and for a second I forget to be angry.

"Change?" I ask, confused.

"All this 'they come first' bullshit!" she bitterly replies.

I'm surprised by her tone as much as by her expletive.

"But you do come first," I reply, frowning in spite of myself. "It's what guardians do."

"And you don't think that's seriously messed up?" she challenges.

"I'm your guardian," I reiterate.

"No, Rose," she sighs sadly. "You're my best friend, and that will always come first."

I don't know what to say.

"Do you think I haven't noticed all the things you've sacrificed?" she asks. "And how most Moroi still treat you as a resource?"

I shrug. "That's just how it is."

"I wondered each time," she continues, "When you gave all those thing up for me; was it because you loved me or because of your ingrained sense of duty to my kind?"

What? That brings me up short.

"Liss," I say, my voice little more than a whisper. "Of _course_ I love you. And it's my job to protect you."

She laughs once, without humour.

"Your job," she scoffs. "I've never seen a single guardian treat it as a job. It becomes your life. Just look at Dimitri, tearing himself apart after a death that he couldn't prevent because he took some time off."

"And what if something happened to you?" I challenge. "What if I listen to you, I leave, and when I come back you're dead, or worse? What if I could have saved you?"

"People die, Rose." she says gently. "You need to deal with that. You can't save everyone, so you might as well enjoy your life when you can."

What she says makes sense, which I hadn't counted on. But the mere thought of how much it would hurt to lose her makes me set my jaw and shake my head.

"I'm not going," I say, my tone final. "And you can't make me."

She sits back for a moment, exasperation plain on her face. She lifts her eyes to the ceiling as if seeking divine help, before returning her gaze to my stubborn face.

"That's where you're wrong," she tells me. "I'm still your queen."

"You can't order me to take a vacation," I snap, crossing my arms.

"No," she agrees. "That would be pointless."

"Okay, cool," I say brightly. "So can we go now?"

"Because I've already spoken to Hans," she continues, like I hadn't said a word.

"You _what_?!" I yell, standing up so abruptly that my chair crashes to the floor behind me.

Lissa smiles sweetly.

"You're getting on a plane tomorrow morning," she says. "I suggest you go home and pack."

I turn on my heel and leave without waiting to be dismissed.

So much for letting go of my anger.

* * *

Author's Note

* * *

 **Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. If you liked it (or hated it and wish to silence me.. permanently) please let me know with a review! Your comments always make me smile and I genuinely do love hearing what you have to say.** **I would also recommend favouriting me and the story, but then again, I may be slightly biased.**

 **I will be posting more chapters, and I'm sorry about the delay. I'm just running out of ideas really quickly. I will try to post more frequently though, so thank you for bearing with me!**

 **Shout out to my marvelous sibling, hes-beauty-hes-jason-grace, for sitting through this even though she isn't part of the fandom and also to my Beta reader NB313.  
**

 **I don't own Vampire Academy, or any of the characters, but I thank Richelle Mead profusely for providing such a great story for me to play around in.**


	3. Chapter 3

I am livid.

My blood boils as I storm down the corridor that leads to Guardian Headquarters like a steam engine. Several people try to stop and greet me, but I thunder past them or, in the case of one unfortunate soul who didn't get out my way in time, over them.

"He's in a meeting!" the secretary exclaims, trying to physically restrain me from getting any further.

Her attempt is laughable and I push my way forward with ease, fuelled by my broiling anger.

"Fuck his meeting," I snarl, barging through the doors to see several comically surprised faces.

"Hathaway!" Hans barks. "What do you think you're doing?"

I ignore him. "You had no right!" I shout, receiving the satisfaction of watching him flinch as I advance towards his desk.

The other guardians in the room stand, ready to jump in if things turn violent. Honestly, part of me is craving an altercation right now; some way to vent my feelings.

But Hans says firmly, "Sit down," and they reluctantly obey. Somehow, that only makes me madder.

"Are you happy now?" I yell at him, my hands shaking by my sides. "You've basically signed her death sentence!"

Hans rubs his temples. "Don't shout at me," he says. "And don't you think you're being a little melodramatic?"

"Melodramatic?" I laugh harshly. "You know I'll be the first one to get the blame if something happens!"

"Exactly," he responds, pointing a finger at me. " _If_ something happens. You're not the only guardian here, Hathaway, don't get cocky."

"You can't force me to take a vacation," I say, lowering my voice to make it all the more menacing.

"No, what I can't do is disobey a direct order from the Queen," he replies, folding his arms.

"I am her guardian, you bastard!" I shout, leaning forward so that I'm right in his face.

He stands up and speaks without hesitation. "Hathaway, you're interrupting my meeting. I'm sure that if you book an appointment with my secretary, we can discuss your grievances at a later time."

I feel my anger coil within me like a spring, and then, just like that, it snapped. Maybe the sound comes from Hans' nose beneath the fist I hadn't even realised I'd drawn back, or maybe from my heart when it occurs to me that there really is nothing I can do to stop this. Regardless, the next thing I know, I'm throwing punches left, right, and center as the other guardians try to hold me down.

Through the sound of my curses and my fists hitting flesh, I hear somebody yell for someone to call Belikov. The mention of his name only adds fuel to the fire, and I fight with reckless abandon, feeling my satisfaction grow with every form I knock down.

Deep down I know it's useless. But action- the sheer force of physical violence- seems to form a haze in my mind, hiding behind my one coherent thought: _I have to protect her._

A single, softly spoken Russian word is the only warning I receive before the familiar hands clamp over me with a grip like iron. I scream and flail, but it's no use, and I only end up hurting myself as I'm dragged backwards through the door.

"Let me go!" I yell. "You can't do this!"

But there's no response from Dimitri, apart from him picking me up bodily and swinging me over one shoulder like a sack of potatoes. While my anger is white hot, I simply can't match his strength, and I wear myself out quickly. My pounding fists have no effect on his broad back.

When he reaches our apartment, he unlocks the door one-handed and throws me down on the bed.

"I'll be back later," he says. "I can't deal with you like this. Try to calm down."

Though his voice is carefully level, I can hear the pain and anger underneath. But in my current state, I don't care about anything beyond my own churning insides. He leaves the room quietly, locking the door behind him. I can hear the sound of something heavy being dragged in front of the door to stop me from getting out.

I scream at the empty room until my voice is hoarse and ugly sobs wrench through me. I cry until I am exhausted, but Dimitri still hasn't returned. So I just sit there in silence with my eyes open, staring out the window as the dawn slowly approaches and brooding over everything I want to say.

Finally I hear the sound of quiet footsteps outside. My rage, which lay dormant until this point, flares up again and I'm on my feet with my arms folded tightly across my chest to stop myself from shaking. The object is dragged away and the door opens.

Dimitri stands before me, and his expression makes it clear that he'd rather be anywhere else. The tension in the room is so thick that I could stick a stake through it.

"Are you okay?" he asks, breaking the silence. Though his words are concerned, his tone suggests otherwise. It sounds almost like an accusation.

"Yes," I reply coldly, echoing his sentiment. "Thank you."

He nods, using the motion as an excuse not to look at me.

The tension between us simmers and builds, and he knows as well as I do that this calm before the storm can't last much longer. But we both want the satisfaction of watching the other crack first.

"Did you pack?" he asks mildly.

If we were having this conversation in a different situation, I might have laughed. Instead, I raise my eyebrows. "You seriously have to ask?"

He mutters under his breath in Russian, shaking his head.

"Do I need to call a translator?" I snap and he eyes me warily

"I just said that this vacation is bound to be fun," he sarcastically replies.

I snort. "Well, Comrade, if you wanted it to be fun, maybe you shouldn't have forced me into it."

"Don't call me that," he says through gritted teeth. "And I'm not forcing you to do anything."

"Bullshit; you told Lissa!"

"And how was I supposed to know she'd do this?"

"You hoped she would."

"I thought she would talk some sense into you," he tells me. "I never wanted this."

I have to concentrate in order to remember how to unclench my fists. I can feel what little control I have left beginning to slip.

"You keep talking like I'm the one who's being unreasonable," I say, my voice shaking with suppressed rage.

He raises an eyebrow. "Aren't you?"

My internal wall breaks and suddenly I'm screaming at him.

"Well, congratulations!" I spit, my molten fury enabling me to pump my words full of a venom I never knew I possessed. "My best friend's going to die, and I'll be off gallivanting with you on another fucking continent!"

His expression is calm in the face of my outburst and it only drives my anger to further heights. I want to see him lose control, to lash out. I want to know that my words can slice him to the bone. I want to see him bleed.

"She'll hardly be left undefended," he says, and even his voice is maddeningly steady.

"I'm worth ten other guardians, and you know it!" I yell. I've lost all semblance of control, and my darkest thoughts are making their way to the surface as a result.

He doesn't seem surprised by my hubris in the slightest, which would be worrying under different circumstances. "The world won't fall apart if you leave, Rose. She'll be fine without you there."

"Was Ivan?" My voice is barely audible, but he recoils like I've slapped him.

I see the flash of pain in his brown eyes, and I regret my words for a second before I see him open his mouth. Regret is replaced by a surge of hateful victory, knowing that he's about to shout back.

But instead he turns his back on me, pacing angrily over to the wall and leaning against it. My rage burns inside me, consuming me like an open flame.

"Am I wrong?" I scream at his broad back, but I might as well be yelling at a rock. He's just as impenetrable.

"If I come back and she's dead, it will ruin me!" I feel tears sting in my eyes, but he still doesn't respond.

"And for what?!" I continue, feeling my tears burn as they roll down my hot face as my voice reached a crescendo. "Some stupid, selfish holiday with you?!"

There is no warning this time. He spins around so suddenly that I freeze in place, his furious face terrifyingly similar to a time when his eyes were red and merciless.

"Maybe I taught you too well!" he thunders.

While my anger is a bonfire, his is a black hole. It consumes everything around him and makes my argument look like a child's tantrum by comparison.

"I thought that for once you wouldn't put her first!" he roars, his voice so loud that it seems to emanate from all directions. "That you'd say yes for your sake, since obviously I don't mean enough to you!"

He draws himself up to his full height so that he towers over me. "And instead you go and throw a fit, like you're some dumb teenage girl back at the academy!"

I stand still as a statue, shocked into silence for the first time in my life. Tears drip steadily down my face, but I've forgotten how to staunch the flow. His words echo through my skull.

 _Since I obviously don't mean enough to you._

For the first time, I realise how much I've actually hurt him. Sometimes it's difficult to remember - badass Russian god that he is - that I hold that power over him. That I can actually cause him pain.

A fissure tears through my heart so violently that it should have been audible. All my anger flows out through the cracks.

"You're wrong," I whisper, not daring to look at his face.

His anger seems to have gone past the point of shouting, and he remains silent apart from his heavy breathing. I can almost hear his fists clench, but I still don't look at him. This will be easier to admit to the floor.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," I continue in the same soft voice, "I'm just… terrified."

More silence, but his breathing is lighter now; he's listening.

"When I met you, it was months after Ivan died." I hear a small intake of breath at the sound of his name, but otherwise there's no response. "And I saw what it did to you. After all that time, I could still see the pain you were in."

I take a deep breath, trying to steady my shaking voice. "You're the strongest person I know, but it almost destroyed you."

I sense him shift, but I still won't meet his eyes.

"If we left, and something happened to her…" I trail off, shaking my head. My tears flow faster, blurring my vision and obstructing my throat.

"Roza."

His voice is slightly hoarse from shouting, but all traces of anger are now gone. Only an aching gentleness remains, laced with his own pain.

And then I'm in his arms with my face pressed into his chest. Huge, broken sobs wrack through me and he strokes my hair like I'm a small child, murmuring softly in Russian.

When I've calmed enough to speak again, my voice is thick with emotion.

"If that's what you went through, then I know that it would decimate me."

And there it is. My ultimate admission of weakness, my most selfish thoughts now belong to him, muffled in the fabric of his shirt.

He draws me away from him, coaxing my chin up with a finger so that he can look into my eyes.

"Let me tell you why that's not going to happen," he says, softly stroking the path of my tears with his thumb. "Lissa is the Moroi Queen. She's in the middle of the Royal Court, surrounded by guardians that make up for your absence through sheer quantity, if not skill."

He receives a small smile for that and he smiles in return.

"I was alone," he continues, cradling my face in his hands. " My family were far away and Ivan was one of my only friends. But if something were to happen to Lissa, you have your parents, Eddie, Christian, Jill, Sydney, Adrian- you have me." He kisses my forehead. "And you're the strongest person I know."

After all the things I said, I can't believe what a balm his words are. Even though I hurt him he's still here for me. He makes me feel something other than anger for what seems like the first time in this topsy-turvy day and as I look at his beautiful smile, I grow warm with a different emotion.

It almost seems a shame to hide that perfect grin of his, but I do it anyway, covering it with my lips. After such an emotional day, I'm not surprised at how quickly our kiss heats up, but there's something I have to do first.

I pull away and rest my hands on his face to stop him from moving towards me again. This is important.

I look deeply into those warm brown eyes, past the spark of irritation at the delay and the heady film of desire that fuels my own passion.

"I love you," I say, infusing the three words with as much meaning as I possibly can. Before he can respond, my mouth is back on his with a crushing force and we don't talk again.

Above my need for reassurance after a shit day, above even my need for him in this moment is my need to make him believe me, I need to show him how much I love him.

 _Since I obviously don't mean enough to you._

His words from earlier whisper through my mind once more, spurring me on.

"I love you," I repeat, feeling the fire blaze in my eyes. I silently will him to believe it.

I have to make it clear enough that he never doubts it again and every layer we shed brings us closer together, until there's nothing separating us at all.

* * *

Author's Note

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it, because that chapter was SO fun. Yay for Romitri! Please don't hesitate to review and let me know what you thought. Your input always makes me smile, and feel free to favourite should you wish!**

 **My regular Beta, NB313, is on hiatus right now. So please put your hands together for the simply superb RomitriIsMyMaximumMortalFlaw! They are both fantastic writers and you should definitely take a look at their work.**

 **If I owned Vampire Academy or even had the talent to come up with such a great idea then somebody out there would owe me a lot of money. All credit goes to Richelle Mead.**


	4. Chapter 4

We lie on the bed together, still twined around each other. Dimitri reaches out and starts playing with a lock of my hair. I watch his face out the corner of my eye.

"I can tell when you're looking at me." He smirks without looking away from where he's twisting my hair around his long fingers.

"That's because you're a god."

"You give me way too much credit," he laughs. "I can just read your body."

I move myself closer to him.

"Yeah, you can."

He draws his attention away from my hair long enough to shoot me an exasperated look and I respond by planting a kiss on his lips.

His fingers wind through my hair, moulding me to him as he deepens the kiss and my hands respond in kind. When I draw back I leave my hands where they are, tracing his features and delighting in the slight prickle of his stubble beneath my fingers. He closes his eyes and I can feel his hum of contentment vibrating through his skin.

"What time are we leaving?" I ask.

He smiles, but doesn't open his eyes and I continue my meandering along his jaw. "In a couple of hours."

I sigh and pull my hand back to heave myself off the bed.

"Where are you going?" He frowns and opens his eyes.

"I still have to pack," I reply and he laughs, grabbing my wrist and pulling me back down to his chest.

"You think Lissa doesn't know you? Your bag is already packed and on the plane. She knew you'd want to make this as difficult as possible for both of us."

I grimace at the accuracy, remembering again how I'd hurt him.

" _Ya tebya lyublyu_ ," I say softly and he looks down at me in surprise.

"That was almost perfect," he tells me. "Have you been practicing?"

"Trust me Comrade, I'm full of surprises."

"You used the internet?" he guesses.

I pout. "Maybe."

" _Ya lyublyu tyebya fsyei dushoj,_ " he replies. "I love you with all of my soul."

I move closer to him and rest my head on his shoulder, gripping my arms more firmly around his neck. "Show off," I mutter and he laughs quietly, making my head bob up and down.

"How long is the flight?" I ask after a moment's silence.

He shakes his head. "I'm not telling you."

"What?" I exclaim, pulling back. "Why not?"

"You'll guess where we're going." He seems to be enjoying this.

"That's ridiculous!" I say, my irritation leading to yet another patronizing smile.

"We'll be up early," he says, ignoring my outrage. "You should get some sleep."

"How am I supposed to sleep with that giant mystery hanging over my head?"

"You can sleep on the plane," he replies.

"Aha!" I cry. "So the flight is long enough for me to fall asleep!"

He rolls his eyes before closing them and pulling me closer. "Go to sleep, Roza," he repeats.

Maybe it was my early start this morning, my emotional roller coaster of a day or simply the recent physical activity. Nevertheless, before I can voice the witty comeback that's on the tip of my tongue, I find myself unable to disobey him and I drift off to sleep.

It feels like only a few seconds have passed when I'm being shaken awake.

 _No_ , I think blearily. _Not two days in a row._

I'll be damned if they're going to force me to go to some place against my better judgement and deprive me of a good night's sleep. I worm my way underneath the pillows, twisting the sheets around me as much as I can.

There's an exasperated sigh from somewhere above me and I can't help but smile into the mattress.

"Rose, I left you there as long as I possibly could."

"SShh," I say, my eyes remaining resolutely shut. "I'm sleeping."

"We're leaving," he replies, a smile in his voice. "You can sleep on the plane."

"No," I whine, trying my best to become one with the bed.

"Do we have to do this every time?" he sighs.

"Not if you let me sleep," I reply. "Besides, it encourages you to be creative."

Even though I can't see his face, I know he just rolled his eyes.

"Well, you're clearly awake now," he reasons. "Why not just get up?"

"Not happening, Comrade. I'm staying here."

There's a pause, then: "Fine. I'll just take you there myself."

And without further ado, he scoops me up from the bed, sheets and all. He cradles me against his chest like a child and I have to admit that after the initial shock, his arms are almost as comfortable as my mattress.

"Mmmm," I say, snuggling my face into his neck and inhaling his intoxicating scent. "I'm fine with this. Let's go."

He laughs and I feel it vibrate through his skin. "We'd have to leave the sheets here." he replies. "I know you and Lissa are best friends, but you might want to put some clothes on for Christian's sake."

Damn. I forgot that I'm not wearing anything. I sigh and open my eyes, still all gummy with sleep. Of course he's already dressed and, by the look on his face, enjoying himself far more than he should be.

"Okay, put me down; I'll get dressed."

He sets me on my feet without another word, but as soon as he lets me go, I stumble back into him. This is what happens when I get too little sleep.

"My body doesn't know I'm awake," I inform him and he raises an eyebrow to keep from laughing. "Please help."

"Well, since you asked so nicely," he replies, his voice warm with suppressed mirth.

He practically drags me over to the closet and sits me on a chair, going to fetch me clothes while I focus on remaining upright. When he returns, he proceeds to dress me like a toddler.

"Lift," he instructs, holding a sock in front of my foot.

Normally I would object, but I'm finding it extremely difficult to talk due to my continuous string of yawns. So I lift my foot to let him slide the fabric over my toes, and so it continues.

I have to laugh when I feel him fumbling around on my back a few minutes later, trying to clasp my bra.

"I'm much better at taking these off," he points out and I shoot him a grin over my shoulder. He then lets out a cry of triumph when finally the hooks catch.

After a few minutes, the growing problem with this situation becomes quite obvious. As his hands slide over my skin, fastening buttons and zippers, I notice that they begin to linger in certain areas and, at the same time, that I really, _really_ want them to.

I clear my throat. "Um, I can finish up myself, thanks," I say, and from the look he gives me, it's probably a good thing that I take over. Lissa will be pissed if we delay the plane.

His answering smile should've been made illegal. "Plenty of time for that later," he assures me. "Ready to go?"

Unable to speak quite yet, I just nod and take the proffered hand.

And so it is that we arrive at the airstrip, slightly later than originally planned. The distant sight of Lissa and Christian waiting for us warms my heart, and I once again feel a pang of worry about leaving them.

As if he can read my mind, Dimitri leans down and speaks softly in my ear. "Roza, stop worrying. They'll be fine."

I look up at him, incredulity plain on my face.

"How could you possibly know that's what I was thinking?" I ask.

He smirks. "You're holding my hand, remember? You almost broke my fingers just now."

My eyes widen. "Oops."

I perk up considerably when we draw near enough to the Moroi to make out their faces. Christian looks perfectly miserable, clearly used to sleeping in as long as he wants. At least I'm not the only one who'd rather be in bed.

As we reach them, I remember the fight I had with Lissa yesterday and there's a brief but extremely awkward silence. Dimitri breaks it.

"I need to put my luggage on the plane," he says. As he walks away, he shoots me a look over his shoulder that warns me very clearly to be nice.

Christian glances at me and then Lissa.

"Belikov, wait," he calls, running after him. "I'll help."

And that leaves the two of us standing there in a silence that seems like it will last an eternity.

Lissa takes a breath. "Rose…" she begins, but I throw my arms around her and squeeze her tight, surprising both of us.

"Ow!" she complains with a laugh.

When I pull back, I stare seriously into her eyes.

"If anything happens to you while I'm gone, there will be consequences."

She smiles. "I promise I'll take care."

"Good."

"Oh!" she exclaims, "There's something I want to give you!"

I frown. "On top of the holiday that you're paying for?"

"You're going to love it," she replies with a grin.

She delves into her pocket and removes a length of silver chain, holding it out for my inspection.

"It's a… bracelet?" I say, unsure exactly why I'm supposed to 'love it'.

"Yup," she responds, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Look closer."

Upon inspection, I see a small silver charm dangling on the chain. At first I think it's a horse, but when I get closer I can see that it has a tiny silver horn.

"Is that a unicorn?" I ask flatly and she nods with excitement. "You know there's no way I'm wearing that, right?"

She reaches into her other pocket and extends an identical one, but the unicorn on this one is pink.

"They're friendship bracelets!" she beams. "See? I have one too!"

I try to keep my expression neutral while I wonder if she's actually lost her mind. "Uh, that's great," I reply.

She laughs at my face. "And the best part is what they do," she informs me.

 _Oh, thank heavens, they're charmed with spirit!_

"Okay," I say, relief colouring my tone. "What does it do?"

"Well Adrian and I have been working on this one for a while," she begins. "And I know you'd feel much better about this whole thing if we were still bonded. So…" she trails off, gesturing at the bracelets.

"What?" I gasp. "Are you serious? You made a bond charm?"

"Yes!" she squeals, handing me my bracelet. "As long as we're both wearing these, you should be able to tell what's going on over here."

"Oh my gosh, Lissa!" I exclaim, hugging her again.

"I have no idea if it'll be as strong as our bond was," she warns, "or if it'll even work the same. But I thought it would be better than nothing. And it should last a month or two, which will be plenty of time."

"This is fantastic!" I tell her, grinning like a crazy person. "You're amazing!"

"It's good to see you're smiling," she laughs. "Have fun, okay? Get a manicure for me."

"I will," I promise.

After another hug, she heads over to the plane to say goodbye to Dimitri and Christian emerges to take her place. I stash the bracelet in my pocket as he approaches.

"You'd better take care of her," I warn him. "I'll be checking up on you."

He takes it as seriously as I meant it. "Of course," he says, then a glint of humour sparkles in his eyes. "After all, I'm the replacement Rose. I've got one hell of a reputation to live up to."

"You bet your ass you do," I grin.

"Oh, and have fun," he says. "You both deserve it. Just try not to kill anything."

I laugh. "What do you think we do for fun?"

"Well," he smirks, "apart from the obvious. You're telling me Belikov doesn't eat Strigoi chunks for breakfast? I thought it was all part of a balanced Guardian diet."

"Gross!" I complain and he laughs. "I'll try," I say, responding to his earlier instruction. "But I'm not making any promises."

He grins. "I suppose that's the best I can ask for," he says.

He pulls me into an unexpected hug, but lets me go rather sharply when Dimitri appears by my side.

Christian clears his throat. "I'll, er, see you guys later," he mumbles and walks off.

Dimitri raises an eyebrow. "What was that?" he asks.

"You're too terrifying for your own good," I tease, making him laugh.

"Ready to go?"

"That depends on where we're going."

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were excited," he says with a smile and I roll my eyes.

"Fine," I sigh. "Let's get on the stinking plane so I can sleep."

He puts an arm around me and leads me towards the entrance. With a final wave to Lissa and Christian, we enter the aircraft and find our seats.

The cushions are really soft and my eyelids start to droop as I sit down beside him. He pulls a battered Western from his duster pocket and starts reading while I glance around the cabin.

Lissa seems to have pulled out all the stops; I recognise it as one of the Queen's aircraft from the luxurious interior. We're the only people on the plane apart from the pilots and a flight attendant.

We take off and Dimitri accepts a cup of coffee, but I'm too tired to drink anything right now. I lean my head against his shoulder and close my eyes, waiting for sleep to reclaim me. I eventually drift off to the sound of turning pages, and the comforting aroma of coffee and leather carries me off into oblivion.

* * *

Author's Note

* * *

 **As ever, thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it, and if you did, please let me know! Your reviews, favourites and follows mean a ton and never fail to help me get my ass in gear.**

 **Apologies for the sporadic updating. We had a huge and very stressful practical to do that severely tested my ability to refrain from killing my classmates. Also, I've come to realise that this is just who I am, so who am I to mess with it? I warn you now that the next chapters' releases will be entirely unpredictable because I'm not even one chapter ahead. So from now, I'll be posting as I write or as close to that as possible.  
**

 **Hats off to RomitriIsMyMaximumMortalFlaw for making me seem so much more eloquent than I am and for putting up with my whack South African spelling. Go check out her work, you won't be disappointed!**

 **This story and the characters therein belong to Richelle Mead.**


	5. Chapter 5

I awake several hours later, feeling like a completely new person. As I stretch my pleasantly stiff muscles, Dimitri pauses his movie and takes his headphones off.

"You're awake," he observes.

"Very astute, Comrade. What are you watching?"

He grimaces. "I don't even know. It's pretty terrible."

I laugh. "So why were you watching it then? Just passing the time?"

"No. I needed something to drown out your snoring."

I move to punch him on the shoulder, but he grabs my fist before it can connect, grinning at my reaction.

"And besides," he continues, as if nothing had happened, "normally I wouldn't really have the time."

"Woah," I say, forgetting about the snoring jibe in the face of this realisation. "I can do anything I want right now!"

He rolls his eyes. "Yes, Rose, that's kind of the point of a vacation."

I roll my eyes, making him smile.

"So I assume you slept well?"

"Yup," I reply, bouncing up and down in my seat. "My energy levels are back to maximum and I'm ready to take on the world!"

"Well," he remarks dryly, gesturing to the cabin around us, "there isn't much world to take on up here."

He has a point.

"Hmm," I muse. "I guess we just get to relax for a change."

"Uh huh," he says, examining my expression like he's waiting for the punch line.

"Have a little faith, Comrade."

I pick up a magazine and flip it open to the first page. He doesn't respond, but gives me one last strange look before putting his headphones back on and resuming his movie.

About five minutes in to the glossy, photoshopped pages, I realise that I don't actually care what that crazy celebrity family has done this time, or which designer dresses they were wearing while doing it. I try to keep reading, but when I've read the same line seven times of an article about a squirrel that taught itself how to skateboard, I have to face the facts. I'm bored out of my mind.

"I was wondering how long that would last," Dimitri smirks, eyeing my leg jiggling restlessly beside his own.

"Please," I scoff. "I'm totally relaxed."

He raises an eyebrow, but carries on watching his movie.

"They wouldn't happen to have a gym up here, by any chance?"

He throws his head back and laughs.

"What? It's a valid question."

"We're halfway there," he answers, still chuckling. "You just have to keep yourself busy."

"Only halfway?" I groan.

"Rose, you've been conscious for ten minutes," he responds, rolling his eyes.

"Well it's not like I can go back to sleep," I complain. "I'm all slept out."

"Just watch a movie or something. You want to watch this one with me?"

I sigh. "No thanks, you go ahead." I let him get back to it while I slump back into my seat, crossing my arms.

I'm full of pent up energy from my nap, and the thought of sitting still for another who-knows-how-many hours is nauseating. I can already feel my imminent spontaneous combustion starting to build within me.

Ugh! Why are there so few people on this plane? If it were full, I'm sure I could find someone to talk to or spar with, but the pilot and the flight attendant are up in the front, and Dimitri's watching his stupid movie.

I continue my internal grumbling for a while, but I stop short when something occurs to me.

"Hey, Comrade?"

He looks over at the sound of my voice, but I can tell that his attention's still on the movie.

"I'm going to the bathroom," I tell him and he nods.

"Okay," he responds, returning his gaze to the screen.

I scowl. Apparently that movie got a whole lot more interesting since I first asked.

"Dimitri," I say, and he begrudgingly looks over once again.

"What? Do you need me to move?"

I roll my eyes. "No," I reply, still waiting for him to react.

When he once again looks back at the monitor, I decide that he needs a bigger hint. I throw subtlety out the window, not that any of the windows actually open up here.

I swing one leg over his lap, kneeling so that I'm right in his face. Pressing myself against him, I take his headphones off and throw them on my vacated seat.

"Care to join me?" I ask in a low voice, pulling out my most seductive smile.

He takes the hint.

The bathroom is cramped, not to mention the added space taken up by the throne-like toilet and the gigantic fluffy towels. Royals.

But I'm too preoccupied to dwell on the furnishings.

Dimitri and I aren't perfect; we have our little spats from time to time, and I've noticed that each fight correlates with an upswing in passion. Naturally, since this was the biggest fight we've ever had, it follows that our sex life will be affected more than it ever has before. Which is a problem, since it's not like it's normally lacking.

For someone who has over six feet of body to work with, Dimitri seems to be managing quite well in the close-quarters. It takes some skillful manoeuvring and the noise is deafening in the tight space, but pretty soon we're passing each other items of clothing that are surprisingly far-flung, given the tiny room. Getting dressed is much more difficult than removing our clothes had been, and I almost elbow him in the face trying to pull my shirt on.

He turns to me and grins before reaching for the door handle, but I pull him towards me for one last heated kiss. Then I'm back in my seat with a huge, smug smile plastered across my face. As Dimitri sits beside me, the stewardess arrives to take our lunch orders.

"That was fun," I say, turning to Dimitri as she retreats down the aisle.

He rolls his eyes, but grins nonetheless. "That's one way of putting it."

"Definitely better than gym."

"Glad I could be of service," he smirks. "What do you want to do now?"

I deliberate. Sleep's out of the question and I feel nicely mellow after the exercise. I could read, I suppose, but the only way I'm picking up that magazine again is to throw it at someone's head.

"We could watch something," he suggests and I purse my lips.

"Okay," I finally concede. "What should we watch?"

We scroll through the seemingly endless list of movies and series on the hard drive, but it's too daunting to pick one ourselves. So we choose one at random and begin the first episode.

"I've actually heard of this series," I say as the title sequence begins. "It's supposed to be really good." I curl my legs up and tuck my feet beneath me, snuggling into Dimitri as he puts an arm around my shoulders.

The theme song is super catchy and the special effects are incredible, but halfway through the episode I'm totally lost.

"There sure is a lot of sex in here," I note, but he doesn't appear to have registered that I've spoken. Resigned to the fact that he's completely hooked, I keep my silence, trying to pay attention. But as the closing scene unfolds, I can't help myself.

"Wait," I frown. "I thought they were brother and sister."

"They are," he replies distantly. "Twins, actually."

"What?! That's disgusting!" But he just shushes me.

Even my exclamation of, "Oh my gosh, did he just push that kid out a window?!" elicits no response.

When the credits roll, I finally regain his attention.

"Do you want to watch another episode?" he asks, a feverish light dancing in his brown eyes.

"You're going to watch it anyway," I laugh. "And it's not like I can go anywhere."

He grins like a child on Christmas morning and leans down to kiss me in thanks. He breaks away far too soon, evidently eager to find out what happens next in this medieval porno.

I tune in and out of the programme, more entertained by Dimitri's reactions than anything else. There are just too many characters and places for me to follow and everyone seems to die.

He pauses when our lunch arrives with the flight attendant. I practically inhale my cheeseburger once it's left her hand. I hadn't realised that I was absolutely ravenous.

"Should I bring you another one?" she asks sweetly, trying to keep a straight face with Dimitri chortling in the background.

"Please."

I scarf down my fries and salad while I wait for her to return. Dimitri starts on his own food, still glancing at the television every few seconds.

The hostess is back in a minute, bringing me not only another burger, but a whole new meal.

"Thanks," I say.

She returns my smile and walks back up the aisle.

"You can carry on when we're done eating," I tell Dimitri after about the twentieth time I see him look at the screen. "I don't want to see a whole bunch of naked chicks while I'm chewing."

"I'd have thought the gore would be a bigger problem," he frowns.

I shoot him a look. "Do you know what we do for a living?"

He rolls his eyes, taking his last bite.

"I'm going to the bathroom." He rises from his seat. "I don't want to have to pause to get up later."

"You're such a nerd," I tease and he smiles.

"I thought the westerns gave me away a while ago."

As soon as he's out of sight, a thought occurs to me. Dimitri's carry on sits innocently by my feet, and with its owner all the way at the back of the plane, I decide to see if I can find any hints about our destination.

Feeling like a ninja, I carefully unzip the main compartment. A change of clothes, toiletries and yet another western novel. I shake my head as I zip it back up and try the smaller pocket at the front. Surely he's read all of those by now? It's not like anybody's writing more of them.

Jackpot!

I discover a folded piece of paper that turns out to be a receipt for accommodation in… Russia?

Of course. I actually feel pretty dumb not having guessed it before. He'd obviously want to go back and see his family and suddenly I can't wait to see them either. For the first time, I'm genuinely excited for this trip.

I silently slip the paper back where I found it and sit up straight, just as Dimitri's footsteps sound behind me. He resumes his seat.

"Is this yours?" he asks, holding something silver in his palm for my inspection. "I found it in the bathroom."

I recognise the stupid silver charm at once.

"Oh, yeah," I say. "Lissa gave it to me. It must have fallen out the pocket while we were… busy."

He bites back a smile. "Is that a unicorn?"

I glower at him, taking the bracelet from his hand.

"Hey, unicorns are badass," I haughtily reply. "They have weapons on their faces."

"Sure they are," he says, trying unsuccessfully not to laugh.

I ignore him and attempt to do the clasp on my wrist one-handed. My fingers fumble on the tiny spring and the chain keeps slipping.

"Need some help?" he asks, his tone still indecently jovial.

I sigh, but begrudgingly hold my wrist out to him. Even though his hands are twice the size of mine, his long fingers somehow manage to get it on the first try. It really shouldn't surprise me, since I know first-hand what those talented fingers can do…

"You're really good at that, considering how long it took for you to do up my bra."

"It's a different type of clasp, and I honestly wasn't trying that hard," he admits with a shrug. "You're not very good at snooping."

My face pales. Dammit, how can he know?!

"Er…what?" I say, trying to stall. I'm afraid of starting a fight or even upsetting him after last night. But his smiling countenance tells me that I have nothing to worry about.

"Find anything useful?"

Feeling a little smug now, I reply. "We're going to Russia."

He raises an eyebrow. "That's it?"

"What more do I need to know?"

"Well, not to insult your intelligence, but of course we're going to Russia. My mom would kill me if we didn't visit first."

My smile fades. "First? As in we're going somewhere else after?"

"You look so surprised," he laughs. "I thought the first part was obvious."

I can see his point; even I can't believe I didn't realise it before.

"Hey, I was severely sleep deprived," I remind him. "My brain wasn't functioning at full-capacity."

It's a feeble excuse, but he doesn't press the issue.

"How could you tell, anyway?" I ask a few minutes later.

He smiles. "Well, my bag is in a different place from when I got up."

I roll my eyes. I moved it by a couple of millimetres, but of course he'd notice.

"And," he continues with mirth dancing in his eyes, "you haven't touched your food."

"Oh, right!"

I honestly forgot about the rest of my meal; a first for Rose Hathaway and a very big give-away. To make up for lost time, I grab a handful of fries and stuff them in my mouth.

"Attractive," he smirks.

It turns out that pulling a tongue with a mouth full of potato isn't a good idea. While Dimitri doubles over laughing, I try to scrape the starchy mush off my lap. It's too late to attempt to salvage my pride.

"Well," he says, wiping tears out of his eyes as I try my best to look dignified, "you're much more entertaining than my show."

I haughtily look out the window. "Flattery will get you nowhere."

"Come on, Rose, I can't help it." By the sound of his voice I can tell that he's still smiling.

I pick up my second burger and take a bite, ignoring him entirely. As I move to put it back down on the tray, I feel a slight movement. Forgetting to act disgruntled, I look up at Dimitri just in time to see three of my fries vanish into his mouth.

"Try that again and you'll lose a finger." My implicit threat loses a little of its gravity in the face of my astonishment. Playful Dimitri has always been one of my weak spots.

"I don't doubt it," he laughs. Then, after a moment's hesitation: "Are you still mad?"

I purse my lips as I study him. Most of his hair has escaped its tie and deep brown stubble coats his jaw; he hasn't shaved since yesterday morning and it grows really quickly due to the freezing climate of his home country or evolution or whatever. I can just imagine the rough feel of it on my skin.

"Do you want to carry on watching your series?"

He catches onto my mood immediately and his smile changes tone. "That depends on what else you have in mind."

* * *

Author's Note

* * *

 **As ever, thank you for reading and for all your support so far! It's a HUGE help because I've been struggling to write the next chapter, so please continue being so incredible! If you have anything to say, please leave a review. And if you like what you're reading, please favourite. It's inspiring to watch those numbers climb and helps me to get moving on the new stuff.**

 **I'm going to be writing exams soon and also writers' block is a very real problem, so it might be a while. You have been warned. If you'd like to keep up to date with my sporadic posting, please don't hesitate to follow me and/or the story.**

 **A huge thank-you to my first-rate beta reader, RomitriIsMyMaximumMortalFlaw! If you're looking for some quality writing then please head on over to her profile to take a look. And shoutout to ArdenSkye7 just for being a spectacular human being!  
**

 **Of course, I don't own the story or the characters as they are the intellectual property of Richelle Mead.**


	6. Chapter 6

It gets steadily colder as we connect with various flights, having to leave the royal airplane behind in case Lissa needs it. But nothing prepares me for the veritable wall of frost that hits me when we finally land in St Petersburg.

"Shit!"

My curse billows out in front of my face, forming a solid white cloud. My desire to get out of the arctic temperature wars briefly with my desire to stretch my legs after the flight, but the former reflex prevails. Dhampir I may be, but I'm only wearing a light cardigan because of the stuffy airplane cabin. I hightail my ass towards the waiting bus and the promise of its toasty confines.

It's only after I'm sitting in my seat able to feel my extremities once more, that I realise that a certain amount of laughter and Russian-accented-quips should have come my way after my reaction to the cold.

Concerned, I glance around the bus. When my initial scan yields no sign of that distinctive brown hair, I stand up and unashamedly stare into the faces of the congregated strangers. It's unnecessary; it's obvious that nobody here is tall enough to qualify.

I lean back in my seat and wait for Dimitri to materialise in the stream of passengers walking through the doors. But as more time passes, it becomes a trickle and he's still MIA.

I'm starting to get a little worried. Where is he? When I try calling, I discover that his phone's still off. I cast my mind back to the image of him reaching up to retrieve his luggage from the overhead compartment. That was the last time I saw him because I was so intent on getting out and stretching my legs. So we must've been separated when we were exiting the plane. Now the question: why isn't he here with me?

My eyes dart towards the entrance once more as a shadow darkens the door, only to be disappointed when I see a little old lady walk through it. She's familiar though, and I recognise her as the lady who was sitting behind Dimitri and me. As she passes my seat, I swiftly stand up. She's so small that even with my height I tower over her.

"Have you seen the man that was with me?" I ask her.

She takes in the concerned look on my face and her blue eyes widen in the folds of her skin. She says something in Russian that sounds like a question, but I don't understand. I switch to a clearer method of communication.

Dredging up the sparse Russian that I picked up the last time I was here, I stumble out the word for 'man'. I raise my hand several feet above my head to indicate his height and then gesture at myself and then the empty space next to me. Recognition sparks in her eyes and she nods vigorously.

More unintelligible Russian follows and I start to get frustrated. When she finds that she's unable to break through my wall of incomprehension, she enlists the help of a man on the other side of the aisle.

A brief conversation takes place, most of which is lost to me. However, I do pick up on the correctly pronounced version of the word that I attempted earlier. The man turns to me.

"She say he take other bus," he says in a heavily accented, gravelly voice.

I purvey my thanks to both of them in abysmal Russian and the man accepts with a nod. I offer a smile to the old lady which she returns before taking her seat. I follow suit just as the bus starts moving.

Of course, it should have occurred to me that not all of the passengers could fit in one bus. Being back in this place has put me on edge. It's impossible to forget the reason I was here last time and an undercurrent of unease runs through me at the thought. Even though I know Dimitri can take care of himself, I will not be okay until I'm with him again.

I wait by the conveyer in Baggage Claims for three-quarters of an hour, feeling my worry grow every time I watch Dimitri's plain black suitcase revolve around again.

I'd seen one of the other passengers earlier who had informed me, with more ridiculous pantomime on both our parts, that he'd seen Dimitri on the bus. So, while theoretically I know that he's not lying in a ditch somewhere with his throat ripped out, my concern about his continued absence is amplified by the memory-soaked continent I now stand in.

Finally I'm unable to take it any longer. I grab his bag on its fiftieth reappearance and head off to another part of the airport. I know it's crazy to think that I'll just happen upon him in a place this size, but I can't stand still any longer. I also possess one distinct advantage that brings me just a little hope: I know him extremely well. And if this place holds unpleasant memories for me, I can only imagine what he's going through.

The thought gives me a sudden burst of inspiration. On impulse, I hail a passing security guard. By some alignment of the stars, he speaks English.

"Excuse me," I ask, "is there a chapel here by any chance?"

He blinks blearily at me. He looks bored out of his mind and honestly, I can't blame him. By the look of the circles under his eyes, he's been on duty since early morning. I can sympathise.

"Uh, yeah," he replies groggily. "Back the way you came. There's a sign on the left."

I hurl my thanks over my shoulder as I hurry away, praying that I'm right about this.

I see the small blue sign that I missed on my way past and turn left as per the guard's directions. But when I open the door, the sight that greets me makes me pause in the doorway.

The light is dim within the off-white walls and he sits alone at the back, even though the room is empty. There's only one window and its glass is brightly coloured in some abstract design, casting beautiful shadows on the walls and floor. By contrast to the glimmering jewel-tones, the simple wooden cross that stands in the corner is plain to the point of heedlessness. But Dimitri stares at it like a drowning man in a sea of nightmares.

Soundlessly, I join him in the pew. He doesn't appear to register my presence, but I know he would have heard the door open. After a long moment, he speaks. His eyes don't waver from the cross.

"You found me."

"Does that surprise you?"

We keep our voices low, as though the room were filled with worshippers instead of air.

"No," he replies. He puts his head in his hands. "I can see their faces. I can always see their faces, just not usually with so much…clarity."

I rest my hand on his hunched shoulders. There's something heart-breaking about a man of his size trying to shrink into nothing. "Being back here brings back memories," I say gently. "But that doesn't mean we should run."

He sighs and sits up, looking down to search my face. There's a tiny indent between his eyebrows.

"Doesn't it scare you?"

I give a small smile. "Not much scares me, Comrade."

He smiles just a little in response. "You don't have to tell me that."

I tentatively reach up to trace the edge of his fragile amusement before it can fade. He folds my hand in one of his own and presses a kiss to my palm, but as I predicted, his smile dissolves back into that pensive frown.

"I don't understand why you're still here," he says.

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No," he assures me, avoiding my eyes. "I just don't get why you're still with me when you must be remembering all those awful things I put you through."

I'm distracted by his conjecture on the direction of my thoughts.

I hardly ever think about our relationship when he was a Strigoi, partly because I was perpetually high on endorphins and so everything's fuzzy, but mainly because it wasn't _him_. It's a concept that's very difficult to explain to somebody who still retains all memories of that time.

"Actually," I say gently, "this is one of those rare occasions where you're wrong."

Despite his current mood, his eyebrow quirks, pointing out the irony far more effectively than words ever could.

"The only thing I'm thinking of is how much it hurt to know that you were gone forever."

My admission hangs in the silence and I wait for him to react. It's easy for me to acknowledge the pain and grief with the real Dimitri sitting next to me, but I still feel a faint echo in my heart of the despair remembered. I feel him expand as he draws a breath.

"You're right," he says, the old conviction present in his tone once more. "I'm here now, that's what matters." He pauses to cup my cheek and continues with a warm smile. "I'll always be here, Roza."

We remain silent for a while, just looking at the other person that neither of us could bare to lose. Together we can internally realign the things that are most important.

"We're here to make new memories," I whisper, and his answering smile is dazzling.

"When did you get so wise?" he teases.

"One of my old instructors used to give me this type of Zen crap all the time."

His brown eyes flash with amusement. "Old?"

"Oh, ancient," I grin.

"Is that so?"

My grin widens. "Yup; still extremely attractive though."

This earns me an outright laugh. "Flattery will get you nowhere. Come on, we'd better get moving. We have one last flight and it'll take an hour to get to the other airport."

He takes my hand and we leave through the door, abandoning our quiet sanctuary and re-joining the throng of people hurrying to and fro.

When we're sitting in the rental car, I turn to him once more.

"Is there time for a detour?" I ask with a suggestive smile.

A smirk spreads across his face, infinitely better than the brooding frowns from before. "Are you sure my aged heart can take it?"

I roll my eyes, but don't dignify it with a response.

"Do you need further convincing?"

I grin. "Oh, bring it on, Comrade."

* * *

Author's Note

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! I can't believe that this story almost has 5000 views, and it's all thanks to you guys! Please feel free to favourite and follow if you liked it, and if you want to tell me what you thought, please review! I really do love hearing from you, even though I've gotten bad at responding lately. Thank you to everyone who's reviewed, favourited and followed so far! You're the reason I keep going.**

 **I'm finished exams, hooray! Thank you for all the well wishes, it meant a lot to me. Hopefully this means that I'll be able to write more. I haven't written much of the next chapter though, so no promises. Thanks for bearing with my sporadic updates. I want to post at least two more chapters before I go to Poland next month, but we shall see.  
**

 **A special thank you to my beta reader** **, RomitriIsMyMaximumMortalFlaw! She is an absolute star, and I would highly recommend that you read her work.  
**

 **The story and all characters are the property of Richelle Mead.**


	7. Chapter 7

"This is the slowest I have ever seen you drive."

"Pardon me for trying not to kill us."

It's true; the snowfall that started drifting down when we landed in Novosibirsk has increased in tempo. With the steady build-up of snow on the windshield, exacerbated by Dimitri's dread of seeing his family, we're driving along at a snail's pace while the weather slowly turns from bad to worse.

"Well, on the plus side," I reason, "by the time we eventually get there, there's a definite possibility that your grandmother could have died."

He chuckles, "I wouldn't hold your breath."

Sadly, I have to agree with him.

"Seriously though," I continue. "I don't think I've ever seen you stick to the speed limit."

He rolls his eyes. "That's because I'm always rushing you into some life or death situation."

He does have a point. "Maybe you should let me drive."

This gets me one of those rare, full laughs that deafens both of us in the confined space.

"Good one."

We subside into companionable silence which is broken a few minutes later by a very bad Russian word. I look over with alarm.

"What?"

He continues to curse not-so-silently. "I can't drive in this," he says eventually. "We're going to have to pull over and wait it out."

The car doesn't take long to slow as he pulls over at a convenient shoulder of the road. The tire tracks we leave behind are almost obscene in the untouched snow, but in a few minutes they'll be gone at the rate that the snow is now falling. Honestly, I'm surprised he'd been able to carry on as long as he did; even with my superior dhampir vision, the windscreen is practically a solid sheet of white. Dimitri unclips his seatbelt and settles back into his seat with a sigh. I follow suit.

"So what now?" I ask.

His lips quirk. "Now we wait."

I groan, causing him to laugh again.

"It's not that bad," he says.

"We're stranded in a car in the snow," I reply. "How cliché is that?"

"Hey, writing is hard work."

"What?"

"What?"

I let it go. "So what do we do?" I ask, trying and failing to keep a suggestive note out of my tone.

He looks at me levelly. "I have a spare western in my pocket." The teasing in his voice does nothing to dispel the fire in his eyes.

"I don't know, it's pretty cold."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well," I say softly, leaning towards him, "I may have to rely on your body heat to keep me warm."

Our lips are millimetres apart, I'm breathing in his scent. I allow myself to drown in his fathomless brown eyes.

"It would work better if we took our clothes off," he whispers huskily.

"Can't argue with science."

He brushes his lips lightly against mine. But Dimitri has always had such a strong effect on me that the brief contact is enough to light the fuse.

In a second, we're a tangle of limbs, tugging at clothes and knocking extremities against the close surfaces of the car's interior. The small pain in my fist as it hits the dashboard is swept up and whisked away in the hurricane of passion.

He's somehow managed to get my shirt off - Russian god that he is – and is busy trailing kisses down my neck while he works to unclasp my bra one handed. His other hand is engaged…elsewhere. I feel the hooks release and the satin slide down my skin as his lips move along my collar bone.

I toss his duster in the direction of the back seat, but I give up trying to pull his shirt over his head, moving my hands to his hair and freeing it from its tie instead. I tangle my fingers in the deep chestnut strands as they make their escape, providing an excellent means to bring his mouth back to mine. His unoccupied hand starts to creep lower.

 _"Not again!"_

It's as if somebody dumped a bucket of icy water over my head.

With a twist that defies the laws of physics, I grab the stake from the car floor where it rolled under the seat. I'm entirely alert, watching all windows for the sign of a threat through the falling snow. Of course, the instant I reacted, Dimitri did too. But everything is still and silent, apart from the whisper of the white flakes on the roof.

"What is it?" he asks, Guardian mode engaged.

"I heard something."

"What?"

I shake my head and glare through the curtain of drifting snow, willing the threat to materialise.

"I don't know," I answer eventually, frustrated. "Did you say something?"

Now that he knows that there's no danger, he relaxes visibly. "I was a little distracted."

I frown at his smirk, still puzzling over what happened. Did I imagine it?

With a sigh, I reach down to retrieve my bra which had somehow managed to get twisted around one of the pedals. Dimitri silently hands me my shirt.

"What kind of something?"

"Huh?"

"What exactly did you hear?" he repeats.

"It was a voice. You're sure you didn't hear anything?"

He shakes his head.

 _What's wrong with me?_ I could swear I heard something, but obviously if Dimitri heard nothing with his superior senses, there was nothing to hear. Am I losing my edge? Or worse: is this some strange new symptom of residual spirit-darkness?

"Hey, don't worry about it," he says, gently smoothing out the furrow between my eyebrows with his thumb. "Roza, we've been travelling for a while now; you're sleep-deprived."

Somehow I doubt that lack of sleep is the problem, but one look at his face full of concern and I find that I can't tell him otherwise. I don't know for sure anyway.

I offer a small smile and a feeble attempt at a joke. "And whose fault is that?"

His answering grin bolsters my mood once more.

"So what do we do now?" I ask.

"Well, we could pick up where we left off."

I hesitate before answering. "This is definitely one for the history book: I don't think it's a good idea to try it out again so soon. I don't know what that was."

If he's disappointed, he doesn't let it show. "Okay, so what do you want to do?"

I watch the snow falling outside. It seems to be getting lighter, but it could still be a while before we can move again. There really isn't that much we can do in here, but one option does occur to me. I begrudgingly conclude that anything will be better than sitting twiddling our thumbs while we attempt to ignore the mounting sexual tension.

Still, I wilfully have to unclench my teeth before I speak. "You said you had a spare western?"

I do get the satisfaction of seeing Dimitri's rare expression of surprise, which eases my dread a little.

"Seriously?" he asks, his eyes wide and his tone indecently excited.

I close my eyes briefly to stop myself from rolling them. "Yes."

Resorting to his native tongue to express his enthusiasm, he stretches over his seat to fish the novel out of his duster pocket. He presents it to me and I eye it dubiously. Surely a guy shouldn't be more excited about this than sex?

It looks pretty thick, though judging by its worn cover, he's read it more than once. Remembering my last attempt at reading on the plane, I'm suddenly struck by a brilliant idea.

"Read it to me?"

He narrows his eyes, ridiculous eagerness fading somewhat. "So you can make fun of my pronunciation?"

That makes me grin. "No, so I can listen to your voice. It's soothing."

After studying my face for a few more seconds, he concedes.

We get ourselves as comfortable as we can in the space available; Dimitri stretches his long legs out as far as possible and rests his feet on the dashboard, while I curl up in his lap. As he begins reading, I can feel the words resonating through his chest and I snuggle closer, letting the story immerse me in the rich molasses of his voice.

" _When Augustus came out on the porch the blue pigs were eating a rattlesnake…_ "

It takes about an hour for the snow the ease up enough for us to drive again, though it doesn't stop entirely. I'm feeling much better now, maybe even a little curious about how the book ends, not that I'd ever admit it out loud.

As we draw nearer to Baia, I begin to recognise one or two landmarks from my last visit, despite the blanket of snow that covers everything. I also notice Dimitri growing tenser with every mile that we leave behind us. When his knuckles show white beneath his skin, ready to burst like some overripe fruit, I know I have to intervene.

"It's normal to be nervous."

He doesn't respond beyond a slight deepening of his frown.

"Dimitri."

Still nothing, though he does accelerate slightly.

"They're your family, Dimitri."

"I know. That's the problem."

I wait for him to elaborate. I've slowly learned that he always responds in his own time, as long as there's silence for him to do it in. I need to lend him my strength right now.

Eventually he sighs. "How do I show my face to my mother, when she knows that it's the last face that so many innocent people ever saw? What if my sisters look at the brother that they grew up with and see a murderer?"

The pain in his voice breaks my heart. "Do you know what I see when I look at you?"

He keeps his tortured silence.

"I see a man who loves, and who will always do the right thing. I see a man who's working hard to forgive himself."

"Sometimes that's hard to remember," he admits.

I smile. "That's what I'm here for, Comrade."

Though his anxiety doesn't dissipate, I can see his strengthening resolve as we start to pick up speed again.

Because of the snow, the sun has started to set by the time we pull up outside the Belikov's house. Dimitri takes a deep breath and murmurs something unintelligible as he exhales. Then he opens his door.

As we walk up the path, I offer my hand and he takes it, unquestioning.

"I love you, Comrade," I whisper, "and they do, too."

He squeezes my hand slightly in acknowledgement and raises his own to knock on the door.

Before his knuckles can connect with the wood, the door swings open. Yeva stands in the doorway with an unsettling smile on her face. She has more wrinkles than the last time I saw her, the folds casting sinister shadows across her already creepy features. She looks like Yoda if he'd joined the dark side, and not in a good way. Her brown eyes are as sharp and intelligent as ever, never once leaving her grandson's face as she calls over her shoulder to the rest of the family within the house:

"I told you he'd come home."

* * *

Author's Note

* * *

 **Your response to this fic has astounded me. A heartfelt thank you to everyone who's stuck with me so far; to everyone who has reviewed, followed or favourited this story. This is the first thing I've written to exceed three chapters without me losing interest, and that is largely owing to your overwhelming support. Please continue to be so incredible.  
**

 **Okay, confession time. I have never seen snow. I live in a coastal town in South Africa where the average winter temperature is 17°C. Snow is a foreign concept to me. Also, the first and last time I was actually on a plane, I was six years old. I wasn't aware at the time that I would need to pay attention to the airport for the sake of future fanfiction. And so, my point is that my details may not be 100% accurate, but I ask that you please forgive me.  
**

 **A big thank you to** **RomitriIsMyMaximumMortalFlaw, my incredible Beta-reader that teaches me how to English at the same time as correcting my work! I love that she helps me to learn from my mistakes, and I would highly recommend that you take a look at her stories, because they're great. Also, a shout-out to toonsta, my snow consultant that took the half-hour necessary to answer all of my ridiculous questions.**

 **I will try my best to update again before I jet off to Poland for World Youth Day, which I am super excited about. Apologies for the wait between updates, my sporadic posting just seems to be a part of who I am.**

 **The Vampire Academy books and the characters in this fanfiction all belong to Richelle Mead.**


	8. Chapter 8

After the battle at St. Vladimir's, when Dimitri had been turned, nobody had thought to inform his family. And when he became a Dhampir again, obviously word would have spread about the miraculous transformation of a Strigoi, but most accounts didn't name the Dhampir in question. Lissa and I had also decided not to tell his family, and so the Belikovas have no idea.

I experienced first-hand Dimitri's immediate reaction to the people he loves, and when Lissa and I watched him struggling to recover and move on, we decided that he needed to heal more before being exposed to the pressure of seeing his family again. A few months ago, coming here would have slowed his progress. But now, seeing how far he's come, I hope I'm right about this encounter helping him to heal further.

Even though he'd made the decision to forgive himself, I know it's something that he has to recommit to every day. Forgiveness is not just a once-off whim, nor is it easy by any stretch of the imagination. Dimitri has his bad days, which is only to be expected. But I always try to be there to remind him who he is and what he's working for, and to lend him my strength when he needs it. My reward is to watch more and more of the old Dimitri resurface from the ashes of his pain and guilt.

Judging by the on his face as Olena Belikova appears in the doorway, there are plenty of both. But there is also the tiniest hint of joy, and it's a victory for both of us.

"Dimka?"

Olena's whisper is choked with shock and disbelief as she hovers by the door, unable to comprehend the sight before her.

It seems to be exactly what Dimitri needed. A small, tentative smile works its way through his darker emotions.

"It's me, Mama."

I can't believe how she doesn't question it for an instant. She runs to her son, trailing a stream of Russian, and then she's in his arms. Her feet leave the ground by the force of their love. He strokes her hair and she kisses his cheeks, and they verbally express their love in a way that transcends language.

And then they're joined by the rest of the family and the whole process is repeated, so that by the time they're done, there's not a dry eye among us. Apart from Yeva, who may or may not be in possession of tear ducts.

I hang back, watching the heart-warming scene unfold and allowing the Belikovs their moment of happiness. They babble excitedly amongst themselves, still entirely unintelligible to me because of their native tongue, and I have the satisfaction of hearing Dimitri's voice sound out almost as much as his sisters'. Olena hugs him again and sees me over his shoulder.

"Rose!" she exclaims, moving towards me and enfolding me in a huge embrace. "You brought him back to me! I don't know how, but you brought me back my son!"

The whole family switches to English once they see me, and I'm passed around from one pair of arms to the next in a very warm welcome. I see DImitri's smile more than once and eventually I'm returned to his side. He takes my hand.

Of course, as soon as we're seated at the table, Olena brings out several plates of food and places them before us. Dimitri immediately makes it his mission to devour the entire loaf of his favourite black bread and I follow suit. We laugh and eat for several minutes before the realisation dawns that we can't avoid the topic any longer.

And so, Dimitri and I take it in turns to tell them the story. The plates are emptied and refilled several times while we speak, and the family remains quiet as they listen. Finally, we come to the end. Dimitri looks at the table in front of him.

"I've done things," he says in a low voice that fails to hide his anguish. "I've hurt people, killed people. I've done terrible things."

There's a silence from the table as everyone takes this in, but it's not without sympathy. Surprisingly, it's Karolina who reaches across the table to grab his hand. Her voice is fierce, leaving no room for doubt.

"All that matters to us is that you're here, _bratik_."

Instinctively, I know that this is the last time we'll talk about this.

"And now, it's late," Olena says. "I'm sure you're tired from travelling. Everyone will want to see you tomorrow, so you need to get some sleep."

I catch Dimitri's eye at the mention of "everyone," and I see the smirk they contain. Neither of us has a difficult time believing that she really means everyone.

Viktoria offers us her room for the duration of our stay since it used to be Dimitri's. Once that's settled, we go upstairs laden with another tray full of food which Viktoria offers to carry up since we have our bags. Despite the fact that Dimitri and I have both just eaten enough to feed a small family of velociraptors, apparently we can't be sent to bed without dinner.

Viktoria and I use the opportunity to catch up since I was here last. We chat happily as we ascend the stairs about school and some of our mutual acquaintances. Dimitri remains silent, serenely listening to our conversation.

"When do you graduate?" I ask.

"In two months."

I suppose it shouldn't surprise me. After all, she's not that much younger than I am. Time just seems to be slipping away. So much has happened since I saw her last.

"And I'll bet you're top in your class," I say.

"No," she smiles. "That's Nikolai. I'm second."

I wonder if she caught the look of pride on Dimitri's face.

"Nikolai, the cute guy with the bronze hair?"

Dimitri narrows his eyes and Viktoria laughs.

"Yeah," she replies. "We've actually been dating for four months now."

"That's fantastic!"

More than anything, it means that she's come to her senses about that Rolan douche bag. Nikolai is a great guy. But the overprotective brother in Dimitri is starting to show, so we move on to a different topic.

When we walk into the room, it's like I never left. The posters, the colours, the mess; it's all exactly the same as I remember it. Once again, I can detect traces of Dimitri in Viktoria's decorating, but this time it doesn't cause me pain. Still, my heart throbs silently, as if to alert me to the current contrast.

"I see you've redecorated," Dimitri says with a smile that his sister returns.

"You haven't seen it before?" I ask. He shakes his head.

"The last time I was here, this was still my bedroom."

Viktoria grins. "I had my work cut out for me, getting rid of all your awful stuff."

He laughs. "Well, those pink curtains aren't really to my taste."

"Are you kidding? Those were the only things of yours I kept. Your old poster of Prince was the first to go."

I can't help but crack a grin at the image of awkward teenage Dimitri hanging posters on his walls. It's hard to imagine a time when he wasn't sexiness incarnate. Maybe if I play my cards right, I can get him to show me some old pictures.

"Oh, wait," Viktoria continues, "I also kept all your hair products. You can have them back if you want; there were so many that I couldn't finish them."

At this, I laugh outright, unable to stop myself. Dimitri rolls his eyes at me, but grins nevertheless, turning back to Viktoria.

"It's probably not a good idea to give Rose anything else to use against me," he teases.

I nudge him with my shoulder. "Relax, Comrade. I have more than enough material as it is."

For the first time is a while, Dimitri grimaces slightly at the nickname. Viktoria, on the other hand, seems to find this the most hilarious thing she's ever heard.

Under the cover of her laughter, he leans towards me. "I don't suppose you'd like to think of a different name to use while we're on this continent?"

I just grin at him. He knows me well enough by now to know the answer to that.

When she eventually stops laughing, Viktoria sets the overladen tray of food down on the dresser.

"I guess I should let you two get some sleep," she says. But when she reaches the doorway, she hesitates.

"Rose, I'm… so sorry about the things I said the last time I saw you. I know you were just trying to protect me, and I acted like a total brat. It was inexcusable."

I can tell that she's trying her hardest to meet my eyes instead of looking at the floor. I give her a small smile.

"I get it," I say gently. "And anyway, I forgave you for that a while ago."

She smiles a little in response, but there's still shame in her eyes when she addresses Dimitri.

"And I'm so sorry, Dimka. I can't imagine what you must think of me after everything with-"

"-Nikolai!"

Both sibling's eyes flash to me at my not-so-subtle intervention, but Viktoria doesn't miss a beat.

"Yes," she agrees. "After how I treated him at first. I'm sure Rose must have told you. Anyway, sleep well. I'll see you in the morning."

As soon as the door closes, Dimitri turns to me.

"What was that?"

He's far from stupid. I knew I'd have to tell him about Rolan eventually, but after everything that's happened, I'm not surprised to find that I don't have the energy. Emotions are exhausting.

I drop my bag unceremoniously to the floor before flopping backwards onto the bed, which groans in protest to the jarring movement. Dimitri sits silently beside me on the edge of the mattress.

"What are you hiding from me?"

I sigh. "I will tell you, I swear. Just not tonight, okay?"

He looks down at my face. I'm not sure what he sees, but after a minute, he begrudgingly accepts, lying down next to me. I automatically cuddle into his side as his arm finds its natural place around my waist.

"It's good to see them," he says softly.

I prop myself up on my elbow so that I can see his face.

"Even Yeva?" I tease, and he cracks a smile.

"Yes, Rose. I'm even happy to see my grandmother."

Resting my chin on his chest, I bask in the warmth of his joy.

"It's good to see you happy," I tell him.

He looks down at me with glowing affection. "It makes me happy to see you with them."

His expression changes into something more calculating, with a strange gravity that I can't quite place.

"It's almost like you're my wife." Then he promptly bursts out laughing.

It's not as if I can blame him: I'm sure my face must be the picture of hilarity. And obviously I've thought about marriage, but as something that may happen in the distant future. With Dimitri's healing, not to mention my own, and our jobs guarding the two most threatened Moroi on the face of the planet, we've kind of had our hands full. The topic has just never come up in between our work and getting to know each other again.

And then there's the controversy that we would cause. Two Dhampirs, especially with our positions and reputations, simply cannot think of marriage in the present political climate. Even with the common knowledge of my obstinate nature, nobody would see that coming.

But what surprises me most is the flash of longing that his words send through me. The image of me in a white dress and a smile, with him by my side comes unbidden to my mind. For a moment, I am terrified.

"Calm down, Roza. That wasn't a proposal."

His teasing tone snaps me out of my reverie, but I haven't entirely regained control of my face just yet. He waits a few seconds for me to say something, but I haven't quiet gotten to that point.

"I can't believe I've finally discovered a way to shut you up," he grins.

I narrow my eyes. "That was payback for the 'Comrade' thing, wasn't it?"

He laughs again, then rests his hand against my cheek, tracing the lines of my face with his thumb.

"Would it really be that bad to be married to me?" he smirks.

I wriggle closer to him. "I can't deny that there would be some perks."

"Oh, definitely."

"But which one of us would cook?"

He smiles "That is a problem. We eat a lot."

"We also do a lot."

His smile gets wider.

"True. Maybe we would take it in turns?"

"As long as you don't mind having microwave dinners every other night," I laugh. "And speaking of food, we should probably eat before it freezes solid."

He rolls his eyes, but makes no move to leave the bed. Neither do I. Instead, he brings his face closer to mine, so that we're breathing the same air.

His voice is low. "I have to admit, my appetite is not quite satiated."

"You finished a loaf of bread by yourself, how can you still be hungry?"

He brushes my lips with his own.

"I wasn't talking about food," he whispers.

I kiss him, long and deep. All my senses are overwhelmed by him as we lose ourselves in one another, until I can hardly tell up from down. There is only Dimitri. I get entirely absorbed into the feeling of the moment.

And it is this exact moment that Yeva chooses to enter the room without knocking.

I pull away from Dimitri so fast that I would have fallen off the edge of the bed if he hadn't caught me in time.

If it was anyone else, I might have stared the down or made some witty joke. It's the expected response from Rose Hathaway. But there's something chilling about Yeva's sharp brown eyes that's just plain creepy.

So instead, I stare at the sheets, not knowing where to look as I feel my face flush with colour. Dimitri looks relatively unfazed, apart from how quickly he crosses his legs. I would grin if I wasn't fighting the urge to crawl under the bed and never come out.

Yeva says something in Russian, apparently back to pretending not to speak English, which is fine by me. It's not a long sentence and she leaves when she's done.

Dimitri's brow furrows.

"What did she say?" I ask.

He frowns. "She said you need to focus on the voices in your head, and that I shouldn't distract you."

"Okay. Well, if you need me, I'll be hiding in the closet for the rest of our trip."

He catches my wrist and pulls me back to him, and I quickly hide my face in his shirt.

"Rose, I'm pretty sure my family knows about sex. You don't have to be embarrassed."

"Can we please not talk about this?"

I feel his laughter vibrate through his skin.

"Okay," he agrees. "So what now?"

I sternly tell myself to get a grip before resurfacing, and I slowly feel my face returning to its normal hue.

"I actually am a little hungry," I say.

He smiles. "I could eat."

So he fetches the tray and we have a feast on the bed, quickly discovering that we both have more room left in our stomachs than we originally thought. There's not much conversation while we eat, so my mind is free to roam as I chew.

I think about the events of the past few hours; about the Belikovs and the countryside, and of course about Dimitri's increase in happiness. But I find my thoughts continually returning to that moment in the car, and the voice in my head.

 _I can't quite put my finger on it,_ I think to myself as I polish off yet another blini _, but there's something about that voice. I swear, it's almost…familiar._

* * *

Author's Note

* * *

 **I'm sorry about the wait, truly I am. I just got back from World Youth Day in Krakow to find that my inbox had exploded with notifications from this fic. Your response has been phenomenal, in spite of my sporadic updating. Thank you so much for every review, follow and favourite. Please continue being so fantastically supportive.**

 **World Youth Day was indescribable. I'm having a hard time getting back to normal life, but I promise to finish the next chapter as soon as I possibly can.**

 **Shout out to** **RomitriIsMyMaximumMortalFlaw, my wonderful Beta. If you have a spare moment, take a look at her work! I promise you won't regret it.  
**

 **The Vampire Academy universe and the characters within it are the intellectual property of Richelle Mead.**


	9. Chapter 9

At long last, I can lie in bed for as long as I want.

I stretch out my travel-stiff limbs on the mattress that feels so soft after several days of only being able to sleep sitting up. Cold morning air seeps in through the edges of the sheets, and I immediately gravitate towards the warmth that is Dimitri.

And he is very warm, despite the fact that he's only wearing sweatpants.

I force my cold feet into the tiny gap between his body and the mattress. He flinches, but I can't really be bothered about his discomfort as the feeling creeps back into my toes.

"Roza," he grumbles.

The rest of my chilly self follows, worming my way as close to his skin as possible. After his initial complaint, he obligingly wraps his warm arms around me and somehow pulls me closer. He rests his cheek against mine to provide some relief from the frigid air. It does not have the desired effect.

"Ow!"

He pulls back immediately, his hand twitching towards the stake concealed behind the headboard. "What? What happened?"

"You happened," I grouch, pulling back to rub my face. "It's like you're morphing into a porcupine."

He slumps back against the pillows. I can tell that if his eyes were open, he'd be rolling them.

Because we've practically been traveling non-stop for three days, neither of us have had a chance to freshen up properly since we left. We were so tired last night that we barely had enough time for a basic scrub down. For Dimitri and his apparent hair growing super-power, this means that the lower half of his face is covered in a very abrasive layer of hair. I like stubble as much as the next girl, but I draw the line at an actual beard.

I prod him under the sheets with a cold foot. "Go shave."

His eyes flash open and he grabs me by the ankle, swiftly pinning me to the bed. He hovers centimetres above me, a jokingly menacing smile on his face as I feel the heat of every inch of his body. His hair hangs down, turning golden in the morning sunlight and tickling my face.

"Does my beard bother you?" he teases, raising an eyebrow.

I briefly appraise his face. The sunlight provides a halo, reinforcing my image of him as a god. However, the smile on his face is far from angelic.

I purse my lips. "Not when it's over there. It makes you look…incredibly hot."

"Why, thank you." There's a mischievous gleam in his eye as he leans closer. "How about now?"

"Dimitri, I swear, if you sandpaper my skin again…"

"What are you going to do? I'm the one in control here."

"That's what you think."

While he's distracted by our banter, I break free of his hold, reversing our positions so that I'm the one holding him down. I grin at him triumphantly, surprised to find that I'm a little short of breath.

I write it off as a reaction to the change in altitude, exacerbated by the cold weather. In actual fact, it could just as well be a reaction to the very attractive way Dimitri's hair is fanned across the pillow, or maybe to the look in his eyes that I know all too well. But I don't get time to decide which one is affecting me more, because he retaliates by rubbing his needled jaw across my shoulder.

"Dimitri!" I shriek, grabbing a pillow as he continues his spiny assault down to my bare stomach. His laughter makes his face shake, making the experience not only painful, but unbearably ticklish.

I whack him on the head with the pillow, which doesn't seem to have much effect apart from making him laugh harder, thus increasing my discomfort.

"Dimitri!" I gasp, in between fits of giggles: a result of the tickling. "Go. And. Shave. Right. Now."

I punctuate each word with a thump from the pillow, until he finally gives in and we both fall back against the bed, laughter slowly subsiding. My sides ache.

He turns to me as I snuggle into his side, taking care to avoid his scratchy jawline.

"You were quite vocal just now," he murmurs, breathless. "I wouldn't be surprised if the whole house heard you."

"Whose fault is that?"

"Mine. But I'm not the one who wants to pretend that sex doesn't exist."

I open my mouth, then close it. Dimitri just grins.

Finally, in a half whisper, I ask, "You believe they'll think that's what we were doing?"

"Yes," he laughs. "And I'm telling you that they don't care. You're part of the family already."

The memory of his not-a-proposal flashes through my head. "Let's not rehash that discussion."

He rolls his eyes. "Rose, you cannot ask me to remain celibate for as long as we stay here, just because you're embarrassed."

"I'm not embarrassed. I'm just…" I trail off.

"Uh huh. Well, if you change your mind, you just let me know."

He leans in again as he speaks, enveloping me in his warmth and scent. My heart rate accelerates. His lips touch mine.

And I get a face full of beard. I pull back once again, making a face. He sighs, admitting defeat.

"Fine, I'm going to go shower."

He kisses my forehead, eliciting another squeak of protest, gets out of bed and gathers his things from his bag. But instead of leaving, he pauses in the doorway.

"You could join me, you know. Give me five minutes to shave?"

I smile. "Comrade, besides your barrier of facial barbed wire, there are also the voices in my head to consider."

"Right. Well, in that case, I'll save you some hot water."

And with an answering smile, he disappears into the bathroom, leaving me to my own devices.

I lie back on the bed, content with my own company for the present because it allows me some time to ruminate. Idly, I wonder what I could possibly have been thinking to have been so against this trip at first. Lissa is obviously…

 _Lissa!_

I bolt upright. I cannot believe that after all that fuss, which I am quickly coming to be ashamed of, I have not given my best friend a thought for the past three days.

"I am a horrible person," I say to the empty air. The sound of Dimitri's running shower water is the only reply I receive.

I'm on my feet, rifling through my bag for my cellphone before I remember the bracelet.

I lift my arm up, bringing the softly gleaming object directly before my face. Well, I suppose I'm as alone as I can ever hope to be. Maybe now is the time to experiment.

I reclaim my seat on the bed where the warmth hasn't yet faded, staring stubbornly at the tiny unicorn and mentally willing it to divulge its secrets. Curiosity burns within me.

It's not that the charm isn't working; I can feel the power coursing through it and making my skin tingle, almost like a subtler version of Dimitri's beard prickle on my wrist. The bond charm just doesn't seem to work the same way as the original thing.

I close my eyes so I can concentrate better.

 _Lissa,_ I think towards the bracelet. _Show me Lissa._

After several tense seconds of nothing, I start to get a familiar tingle in the back of my mind, and I can just make out a faint thrum of life in the distance. It has a shimmery quality that I can only describe as _pink_ , that is definitely Lissa.

Is she asleep? I attempt to probe further, willing the murky presence to let me in.

 _Rose?_

I almost fall off the bed. I hear her voice as clearly as if she'd been standing next to me. Somehow, miraculously, the bond charm works. But this time, it appears that she can sense me too.

 _Liss, are you okay?_

 _I'm fine. Happy to hear from you, though. I've been dying to know what you think!_

 _It's fantastic! Sorry about the delay, I feel awful! I've just been a little busy._

I receive a clear mental image in the shape of her grin.

 _Uh, yeah, Rose. I noticed._

It takes me a second, then it hits me.

 _It was you! I thought I was going crazy!_

I mean, I could still be going insane, but at least I haven't reached the 'voices in my head' stage just yet.

 _I know,_ she thinks, wryly. _The first time I "heard" you, I was in a meeting._

I can't quite understand her tone, but I can empathise. She continues before I have the chance to say so.

 _And it was even worse because it was a mental image of Dimitri naked. You can understand why I wasn't exactly eager to repeat the experience._

I choke back a laugh without much success, sending the man in question running in from his shower to check on me. Luckily for Lissa, he thought to drape a towel around his waist. But he's still dripping wet and, even better, clean shaven.

"Rose! Are you okay?"

"Just fine, Comrade," I manage to say while trying to control myself.

His eyes narrow. "What's happening?"

 _Liss,_ I think. _I have to go. I think I have some explaining to do._

 _We'll talk again soon, Rose. Have fun! Just don't include me if you have, er, too much._

I'm still struggling to breathe, but her last thought sends me back into gales of laughter. I seriously think Dimitri is concerned for my sanity. He starts moving towards me carefully, like you'd approach a wild animal. I jump up and fling myself at him, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

He looks down at me, utterly perplexed. "What's happening?" he repeats.

It's difficult for me to bring his mouth down to mine because his hair and skin are slick with water, but somehow I manage anyway. He pulls back after a moment or two, but I don't give him the chance to speak.

"I've solved the mystery."

"Oh? So what did you hear?"

My eyes rove appreciatively over his damp torso.

"Later," I grin. "Is it too late to join you?"

He doesn't question, but smiles in return.

"I think we might be able to work something out."

After a morning well spent and a gigantic breakfast, Dimitri and I head through to the kitchen, where Olena and Karolina are preparing a mountain of food for the "small" gathering this afternoon.

"Did you have a good morning?" Karolina asks, looking up from the pot she's stirring. The fragrance of the steam issuing from it makes my mouth water, despite the fact that I couldn't possibly swallow another bite of food. However, it's not enough to make me miss her small smile as she speaks, or the connotation behind her words.

"We did, thank you," Dimitri replies, with an equally suggestive grin that makes my face burn.

Does he have to be so obvious?

But Karolina just grins back and then returns to the stew. I sneak a glance at Olena and find her smiling too, but with so much love and genuine happiness in her eyes that I start to wonder if maybe I am overreacting after all.

Before I can mull it over more than that, Paul comes running into the kitchen and wraps his arms around his mother's hips. He says something that I can't understand, clearly upset, and Karolina looks in the direction of his pointed finger. Her face is conflicted.

"I'll take over," I offer.

After a moment's hesitation, she hands me the spoon. "Thanks, Rose, I just need to sort this out."

Then she leaves the room, sniffling son in toe. I start stirring.

Dimitri lets out a chuckle. "Who knew that a different continent is all it would take to get you to cook?"

"Easy, Comrade. I'll kick your ass and make you into a casserole."

He pauses to think about it, then shakes his head. "You don't know how to make a casserole."

Well, he has me there.

"Dimka, I don't see you showing Rose your superior cooking skills," Olena pipes up with a smile. "Maybe you should help before you get a face full of boiling stew? There are some vegetables that need chopping."

Despite our playful argument, she's practically bursting with joy at seeing us together. It makes me feel a warm glow inside.

I laugh. "Your mother is a wise woman."

"Yes, she is."

He pulls a knife from the drawer next to me without having to ask, then plants a kiss on my cheek before heading over to the vegetables piled next to a chopping board. With an amount of skill that fills me with equal measures of pride and annoyance, he begins dicing the onions. How can he be so good at everything? He doesn't even shed a tear.

"Rose, I think you can take that pot off the heat now," Olena instructs.

"Sure thing."

I twist the dial to turn off the stove plate.

"Wrong one," Dimitri says, making me roll my eyes.

"Maybe you should pay attention to your own job?" I reply, turning the correct one this time.

"I don't need to pay-" There's a sharp intake of breath, then: " _Suka blyad!_ "

He jams the fresh cut on his thumb into his mouth to stop the bleeding.

"Dimitri!" Olena scolds, and to my absolute delight, he flinches.

"I guess now people can understand what you say," I grin.

Olena turns to me, her eyes wide. "He speaks this way around you?"

Behind her, Dimitri silently pleads with me, but it's too good an opportunity to pass up. I nod. "He won't tell me what it means though."

It's totally worth it. She switches to Russian to berate her son, but I don't need English to get the gist of what she's saying. His ears go red and he starts backing away from the woman that's half his size, eyes still begging me to intercede.

With a chuckle, I decide to leave them to it and head back to the living room. My smile evaporates when I see Yeva sitting in the corner, placidly crocheting with a ball of orange wool at her feet. Her icy gaze locks with mine upon my entrance, and it's too late to retreat. I steel myself.

 _It was bound to happen sometime,_ I think grimly.

She says something in Russian.

"I know you speak English," I say, keeping my expression deadpan.

"Russian is Dimitri's native tongue. You should learn to speak it."

"We live in America."

"But for how long?"

Her response sends a chill down my spine, and despite my best efforts and my training, I can't keep it from showing on my face. I want to write her off as a fake, but she's just so unnerving.

As if she can read my mind, a smile spreads across her face. "You keep his darkness at bay, for you are no stranger to darkness yourself. We are grateful."

My mouth pops open. Did she just…thank me? I'm so shocked that I speak without thinking of who's hearing my words.

"I love him."

She nods. "It is enough."

This is the most confusing conversation of my life.

"Go now, and confer with your queen."

"Wait a minute," I frown. "You knew? You knew what it was and you didn't tell me?"

She simply continues with her crocheting, as if I hadn't spoken. Infuriating woman! I turn around and head back upstairs, cursing Yeva in my head.

 _Wow, she is just creepy._

I almost jump out of my skin.

 _Dammit Liss, can't you give me a little warning?_

 _Sorry._

I open the door to our room and plant myself in the centre of the bed.

 _Okay, shoot. What's up?_

 _Oh, I was just checking in. This paperwork is really tedious._

I feel her roll her eyes, and I grin.

 _Shirking your responsibilities?_

 _I'm just looking for a little entertainment. You wouldn't believe how dull my new guardians are. It's like they're robots or something._

At the mention of her guardians, I feel a pang of worry.

 _Relax, Rose. Dimitri helped Hans choose them for me._

 _And I couldn't help because I was off being a total bitch_ , I wince. _Sorry about that; I could have picked ones that were more interesting._

 _Don't worry about it, I actually-_

And then I'm sucked right in.

It's a completely different sensation to the old bond, far more unpleasant. Instead of seeing things from inside Lissa's head, it's like I'm standing next to her, tethered to her by my wrist.

I'm completely disorientated for a moment, but once I gather my wits, it's clear what pulled me in.

Abe stands in front of Lissa's regal desk, and he looks…odd.

"Where are Rose and Dimitri?" he asks. "I just need to know."

Lissa frowns. "Slow down, Mr Mazur. What's happening?"

"I need to speak to her, in person."

"She's in Russia. Can't it wait until they're back?"

He shakes his head. "It's urgent. Where in Russia?"

"Baia. They're staying with Dimitri's family. Is something wrong?"

Abe sets his mouth in a grim line. "It's nothing you need to concern yourself with, Your Highness. I just miss my daughter."

With a quirky smile, he leaves Lissa's office. She stares after him.

 _What was that all about?_ she muses. _Maybe I should-_

"Rose? Rose!"

I open my eyes.

Dimitri's face swims into my field of vision, and he looks terrified.

I frown. There's something hard underneath me.

"How did I get on the floor?" I sit up and rub my head, where there seems to be a large bump forming.

He reaches out and grasps my shoulders. "Are you okay?" he demands.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why are you so worried? Did something happen?"

That's when I notice something silver in his hand, tinged with red. Surprised, I look down at my wrist to find it bleeding and bare.

"Rose. Roza."

He wraps me in his arms and hugs me tightly, burying his face in my hair.

"Dimitri, what's wrong?"

Slowly, he pulls back.

"I came in, looking for you, and I saw you on the floor. That bracelet, it was black. Pure black. When you didn't respond, I ripped it off your arm, and you woke up."

"Hey," I say gently, placing my hand on his cheek. "I'm okay. It's just a bond charm. Lissa made it for me, so we could keep in contact. You don't have to worry about it."

There's still fear in his eyes, but I don't understand his reaction. It takes a lot to scare Dimitri; more than just finding me unconscious.

I narrow my eyes. "What aren't you telling me?"

He takes a breath, hesitating. He doesn't want to say it.

"Comrade," I breathe, stroking his face.

He squeezes his eyes shut, as if bracing himself for something.

"Rose… I checked your pulse. There wasn't one. You were dead."

* * *

Author's Note

* * *

 **This story is officially over 20,000 words long! Who's excited? I am! This is the longest thing I've ever written, and it's all thanks to your support! If you liked the story, please favourite and review. I know I'm terrible at responding, but I read every single piece of your input and it never fails to bring a smile to my face!  
**

 **Okay, so I know that I'm the worst updater ever. I am sorry, I swear. I am aware that I tend to make promises and then not stick to them, so I'm going to stop that. I am SWAMPED with work right now. I'm not normally a person who gets stressed, but let me tell you that I am freaking out about my workload. Writing is fun for me, a way to allow myself to unwind. So naturally, the last thing I feel like doing after agonizing over a stubborn script is writing some more. I don't know when I'll post in this fic again. But I will post sometime, when I can.**

 **A huge shout-out to** **RomitriIsMyMaximumMortalFlaw, my incredible Beta-reader! If you're looking for something to read, go check out her work because it is fantastic.  
**

 **If I owned Vampire Academy or any of the characters in this fic, I wouldn't have to work so hard in university to be able to feed myself. All hail Richelle Mead!**


	10. Chapter 10

Despite my cajoling, reassurances, and pleas, Dimitri won't give me the bracelet back.

"Look, we don't know what's going on here," he reasons. "I'm not letting this touch you again until I make sure that you're not in danger."

I pause to think about it for a second. I think about the expression on his face when I opened my eyes, and I feel a tug in my heart.

"You're right."

"Rose, I… wait, what?"

His mouth is actually hanging open; he looks so stunned that I can't hold back my grin.

"I said you're right. We'll wait until we know more."

Concern crosses his features once again. "Did you just agree with me? I think you need to lie down."

I roll my eyes, but then my smile drops. "You shouldn't have to go through that again," I say sincerely.

He can see the honesty in my eyes and reaches out to touch my face. "Thank you."

We sit there for a moment, just allowing ourselves to be in each other's presence.

"Oh, also, I think we should be expecting a visit from Abe sometime soon."

His brow furrows. "What makes you say that?"

I'm just about to tell him about what I saw through the bond when Viktoria bursts through the door. She grins when she sees us sitting so close together on the floor.

"Oops, sorry. I guess I should have knocked first," she shrugs. "Anyway, Mama sent me up here to tell you that some people have arrived to see you. I'll just let you finish."

As soon as she's gone, Dimitri turns to me, but I jump in before he can say anything.

"I feel completely fine, but I promise you that if that changes, I'll signal you. For now, can we just forget it happened? If I think about it too much, I'm gonna freak out."

He gives me a suspicious once-over before agreeing.

As we're descending the stairs, we hear the sound of voices floating up to us. Dimitri curses under his breath, making me grin. I nudge him with my shoulder.

"You need to keep that under control while we're here."

He glares down at me. "Oh yeah. Thanks for that, by the way."

My grin widens. "Anytime, Comrade. Why the cussing now though?"

His eyes swivel uneasily to the open doorway. "It sounds like half of Baia is in there."

I lace my fingers through his and squeeze his hand. "We can do it."

He takes a deep breath. "Here we go."

An almighty cheer goes up when we walk into the room. There are people everywhere, and I mean lots of people. There must be more than a hundred bodies crammed into every available space, spilling out into the yard and the street outside the house. I'm surprised they aren't overflowing out the windows.

I look around, but can't recognise anyone. We head into the throng, and Dimitri and I are separated almost immediately by the sheer volume of people wishing to greet us.

I'm passed from one pair of arms to the next, my cheeks randomly attacked by the kisses of strangers. Russian flows freely, so it's a surprise to me when someone addresses me with an English accent a few minutes later.

"You're Rose, right?"

The woman who spoke is tall, blonde, and possibly the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my twenty-one years. She looks like a supermodel; the really high-end couture ones. And astonishingly, she's a Dhampir. Her smile is soft and full, and her eyes glow the colour of honey. She extends a beautifully manicured hand, reminding me of my promise to Lissa.

"I'm Liliya. We met at the funeral, but I wouldn't be surprised if you don't remember me."

I shake my head, though it's hard to believe that someone so beautiful didn't make an impression. "Sorry, that must have been after the vodka."

She laughs. "Then I'm definitely not surprised. That stuff is brutal."

She seems really nice, and I feel myself warming to her immediately.

"How do you know Dimitri?" I ask.

"We were childhood friends. I used to live just down the road from here."

"Really? This is where you grew up?"

She nods.

"Sorry, it's just that you don't have an accent. I thought you were British."

She laughs. "No, that's quite alright. My family moved to London when I was in my teens. I haven't seen Dimitri in seven years or so. I can't believe he's back."

"Some days, I can't believe it either," I reply.

"It must be quite a story," she smiles, flashing dazzlingly white teeth. "You'll have to tell it to me sometime."

"Sounds good. I'll help you find him, then we can tell you together, if you want."

"Thanks for the offer, but there are a lot of people here," she says, gesturing unnecessarily at the crowd around us. "We have more chance of success if we split up."

"Can't argue with that. I'll see you later, maybe."

She smiles again and then disappears into the forest of bodies, so I head in the opposite direction to cover more ground.

It's tough going, especially with my height. I can hardly see the faces of the people that I push through because of how tightly packed we all are, let alone catch sight of a chestnut-haired head sticking out a good foot from everyone else's. I'm seriously starting to contemplate getting down on my hands and knees and crawling through people's legs. I think I remember what Dimitri's shoes look like…

Just then, a lady bearing a tray of vodka shots walks past. She offers me one and I decline vehemently, but the crowd parts to let her through and I slip behind her, tailgating through the masses. It's almost magical how everyone moves to make way for her; each body shifting into previously non-existent space. It's like she's the Russian Moses. But alas, it is not to last.

Somebody says my name, calling my attention away long enough for the crowd to close behind the vodka-bearer, and I'm once again facing an intimidating wall of flesh. Suppressing a sigh, I turn around to see who addressed me.

After three-quarters of an hour, I have nothing to show for my efforts. I haven't even caught a glimpse of Dimitri, which is ridiculous because I've been around the house twice now, and it's really not that big. I'm sweating profusely from the temperature in the room, the din is giving me a headache, and the toes on my left foot are throbbing because of some asshole who stomped on them. And yes, I have to admit that I'm a little hurt that Dimitri hasn't sought me out, despite the "let's pretend it never happened" thing.

I was dead! Of course, I feel absolutely fine now, and the episode doesn't seem to have affected me in any way, but he doesn't know that! After all that concern, you'd think he'd at least check on me. My internal grouching continues, but in my mood, I detect a fleck of darkness that brings me up short. Maybe I'm not completely unfazed after all.

A familiar voice draws my attention away from those unsettling thoughts, and I find myself hugging just the people that I need to talk to.

"Mark, Okasana, it's so good to see you!"

They both return my smile, but Oksana's falters after a moment. Her eyes dance over the space around me.

"Rose," she says with a frown, "is everything okay?"

I can only imagine what my aura looks like right now, having recently died and all. I sigh.

"I honestly don't know."

Her and Mark exchange a glance.

"It seems we have a lot to talk about," he says.

"Yeah, we do," I agree. They could have invaluable input on the whole bracelet situation, and I'm sure they'd love to hear all about Dimitri becoming a Dhampir again.

"Maybe we can invite you two for dinner sometime this week?" Oksana suggests.

"That sounds great, actually," I grin. "I can ask Dimitri when I find him. Have you seen him? I've been looking for ages."

Oksana shakes her head. "Sorry, we only just arrived."

"But isn't that his younger sister over there?" Mark points behind me and I spin around to see Viktoria.

"Thank you! I have to go, before she disappears. Let us know about dinner, okay?"

They assure me that they will, and I make my way over to where Viktoria stands with an attractive Dhampir boy. It takes me a second to identify him as Nikolai.

"Hey, Rose," Viktoria grins.

"Hey guys. Have you seen Dimitri?"

She stops to think about it. "I think I last saw him outside the kitchen, carrying a plate of food through. But that was half an hour ago."

"You could stand on that chair to see above the crowd," Nikolai jokes with a grin.

"Actually, that's not a bad idea. Thanks."

I practically push the chair's occupant off with a terribly pronounced Russian apology and clamber onto the seat.

Once I'm up, I can see everything. Nikolai's face is particularly amusing. I don't think he meant me to take him seriously. I scan the sea of heads, but it's not hard to spot Dimitri at the other end of the room. I catch him in the middle of one of those rare laughs of his and it makes my heart skip a beat. He's so beautiful.

But after a moment, I notice that something's off. His eyes are bright, and his face is far too red for the heat to be the only explanation. I narrow my eyes, almost losing sight of him for a second as he leans his head towards the person next to him… the person with perfect blonde hair.

I grit my teeth and climb down from the chair.

"Did you see him?" Viktoria asks.

Nikolai takes a look at my face. "She saw him. And my guess is that he's in trouble."

Viktoria grins. "Go easy on him, Rose, we just got him back."

"No promises," I grumble, staring daggers in his direction.

I find that the mass of people is no problem to navigate when one has sufficient motivation. I cut through the crowd almost as effectively as the vodka-bearer through sheer willpower, not to mention a few very potent glares that don't require translation.

It doesn't take me long to get within a few feet of the pair; close enough to hear what they're saying.

I notice that Liliya has taken off her jacket and undone the top two buttons of her blouse, and conclude that maybe Dimitri isn't entirely to blame. Her hand rests lightly on his shoulder as she passes him a glass of vodka.

"Won't you finish this for me please, Dimka?" she simpers. "I'd forgotten how strong this stuff is."

By the ruddiness in his cheeks, I'd say that it's not his first of the day. Probably not even his sixth or seventh. It takes a lot of alcohol to get him drunk, and I have a feeling that Liliya is well aware of that fact.

He brings the vodka to his lips and I decide that it's time to intervene.

"Comrade, there you are!"

I take a step forward and Dimitri's face breaks into a huge, drunken smile.

"Roza!"

He slides an arm around my waist and pulls me close, leaning his head on top of mine. I don't miss the dark look that Liliya gives me, and I decide that the whole ordeal must be her doing.

 _Take that, bitch!_ I think smugly as Dimitri clings to me like a limpet.

"Okay," I say, prying the drink out of his hand, "I think you've had enough."

He thinks about it for a moment, then gives an exaggerated nod. "I think maybe you're right."

It's extremely impressive that he isn't slurring his words unintelligibly, given the amount of alcohol he must have consumed.

"You should probably go upstairs and sleep. Sound good?"

Another vigorous nod settles that, and I wrap his free arm around my shoulders, supporting him.

Holy crap, he is heavy. All that muscle isn't nearly as attractive when I have to lug it up a flight of stairs. I try to gather my strength in my legs, preparing to take the first step, but Liliya speaks before I can.

"Are you sure you should leave the guests, Rose? This party is half for you, you know. Maybe I should take him instead."

So that's her plan: get him blind drunk and take him upstairs while his defenses are lowered. Anger swells within me, coloured by a disturbing tinge of darkness around the edges. I step forward putting my face inches from hers, and she wisely takes a step back.

"Listen," I growl, my voice low and menacing. "I don't know what game you think you're playing, but you will lose. He'll choose me every time, so you're just setting yourself up for failure. And if you think for one second that you'd be able to steal him away from me, then I guess you've forgotten who he is in those seven years you've been away."

I draw back my fist, and she looks genuinely terrified, but before I can break her perfect nose, a hand closes around my wrist. Dimitri has a surprisingly strong grip, for somebody in his state of inebriation.

"Roza, don't. You'll ruin her pretty face."

She grins triumphantly at his words. "Maybe the only reason he's with you is because there was nobody better around."

I shoot her a look of disgust. "There still isn't."

I turn around, dragging Dimitri along with me, and slowly begin the trek up to our room. He's leaning on me more and more as we go, and I can tell that it won't be long before he passes out.

"Don't hurt her face," he mumbles against my neck. "It's all she has. Nothing good inside."

That garbled statement does away with the rest of my anger, and I feel a surge of love towards this ridiculously heavy man. We finally reach the top of the steps and I practically haul him through the doorway and dump him on the bed. He groans upon impact, but I ignore him.

Then I set to work. I pull off his shoes, one after the other, and then his socks. I take the tie out of his hair, releasing it over his shoulders. I undo the buttons of his jeans and pull the belt out through the loops, then attempt to get his sweater off over his head, which takes no small amount of tugging.

He lies sideways on the bed, but there's no way that I'll be able to shift him, so I just tuck a pillow beneath his head and throw the quilt over him. Unable to resist, I press a kiss to his lips and stroke his hair.

"I tried to find you," he mumbles. "She wouldn't let me go."

"Shhh," I soothe. "We'll talk in the morning."

A couple of minutes later he starts snoring softly.

I figure I should probably text Lissa, to let her know what's happening. I grab my phone, then after a moment's thought, I curl up next to Dimitri and start typing. The day must have taken more out of me than I thought, because I'm asleep before I can hit send.

* * *

Author's Note

* * *

 **You know, I'd never have thought that other people would enjoy reading what I write. Thank you, specifically, for reading this and for all your support so far. I promise, I read all your reviews, even if I'm not so great at replying. Please leave a review, and don't hesitate to follow and favourite should you wish.  
**

 **I finished my script, so yay! Now I have a huge practical load to procrastinate, but not very many ideas for the next couple of chapters. I seem to keep coming up with plot at random inappropriate moments. I apologise if my next idea takes a while. I do update as frequently as I can, and I thank you for your patience. Anyone a fan of the new cover?  
**

 **A huge thank-you to RomitriIsMyMaximumMortalFlaw, my incredible Beta-reader who has introduced me to the art of the semi-colon. If you've got a moment, please take a look at her stories, because they are great!  
**

 **Richelle Mead owns the Vampire Academy universe and the characters therein.**


	11. Chapter 11

For the first time in history, I'm voluntarily awake before Dimitri is.

After a quick glance at his sleeping face, I decide that I'd have more luck trying to rouse a log of wood. So rather than wait for him to wake up, I get dressed and head downstairs to the family. But when I get into the sitting room, the only one in sight is Sonya, jiggling an adorable little girl on one knee.

I hesitate at the doorway, suddenly awkward. All the Belikovs are practically family to me, as Dimitri just loves pointing out, but I haven't really had much to do with Sonya. Come to think of it, I don't think we've ever really had a conversation together; the last time I was here, she was pregnant and moody when she wasn't at work.

She looks up and sees me hovering, giving a slight smile.

"Come in, Rose."

I enter the room and sit down, thinking about what to say. Oddly enough, she seems just as unsure as I do, which I find reassuring. It makes me more comfortable, and I relax slightly. She continues to play with her daughter.

"What's her name?" I ask.

That seems to make her more comfortable too, and her expression softens as she looks at the little girl's face. She must be about two years old, if my calculations are correct. I can't help but feel a flash of anger towards her douche of a father, even though he has a place in the girl's adorable brown curls.

"Irushka," she replies softly, watching her daughter smile in response to her name.

"She's beautiful."

"Isn't she?" Sonya looks completely at ease now, and as a result I let go of any residual tension.

"Dimitri's still asleep," I say, thinking it best to start with small talk.

She grins. "That doesn't surprise me."

"I'm honestly impressed he's still alive. That vodka is potent stuff."

Her grin widens. "Oh, trust me, you haven't seen anything. Although, I don't suppose he drinks much nowadays."

"No," I smile. "Normally he's very responsible."

She snorts. "Normally, I suppose he has to be. But then again, she's not normally around."

"Liliya?"

She nods, her face changing into a slight scowl as Irushka plays with her fingers. "He was crazy about her, you know. But she never thought he was good enough."

"She said they were childhood friends."

"He wanted to be more than friends, and she knew it, too. She just kept stringing him along."

"You're just making me wish I had punched her, after all."

She glances at my face. "I saw how you handled her. You had more self-restraint than I would have in your situation."

I shrug. "I know he loves me, even when he's had an entire bottle of Russian vodka."

Approval crosses her features. "It makes us all happier than you'll ever know to see you two together. We never thought we'd see him again, let alone see him this happy. We have you to thank for both."

I return her smile, and we share a moment of silent camaraderie, accompanied by Irushka's joyful babbling.

"And," she continues, her smile faltering, "I also want to thank you for what you did for Viktoria."

My surprise must show on my face, because she looks down. I'm glad that there's no resentment here, and I'm also exceedingly relieved that it appears to have forced the sisters to talk about Rolan.

"I was just looking out for her, for Dimitri's sake."

She shakes her head. "You protected her, because you see us as family. It was very brave to in-debt yourself to Zmey. If I'd had someone to show me my foolishness, then maybe things would have turned out differently."

Her last sentence is filled with bitterness, but all traces of regret vanish when she looks back at Irushka. Seeing them together fills me with a longing that I don't quite know how to express, but probably has something to do with my own inability to give Dimitri children. After a moment, I swallow my grief.

"Actually, I don't owe Abe anything."

Her eyebrows shoot up, unbelieving. "Oh?"

"No," I reply. "Um, it actually turns out that he's my father."

She narrows her eyes and studies my face, but after a pause, her expression clears. "I can see something of him in your features."

I crack a smile. "It's just too bad I didn't inherit his goatee."

She laughs. "Definitely, I'm sure my brother mourns the loss. Do you want some breakfast?"

Without waiting for my response, she rises and sets Irushka in my lap.

"I'll make you a tray to take up to sleeping beauty," she says over her shoulder as she exits the room.

I hear clattering noises from the kitchen as she prepares everything. For some reason, she turns the blender on as well. I look down at the child on my knees.

"Hi," I say.

She babbles unintelligibly in response, no less adorable for my inability to understand. She grins up at me with her tiny dimples, and I feel my heart melt. Then, without warning, she reaches out and grabs a chunk of my hair with her chubby fist.

"Ow, hey! Quit it!"

She doesn't let go, only yanks harder. Even though it's not out of spite, I can't stop a little of my darkness tinged anger from surfacing. So, to distract myself as much as her, I do the only thing I can think of; I stand up and dangle her upside down.

Thankfully, she releases me, and I shift my grip on her to my right hand so that I can safely sweep my hair out the way with my left. Irushka seems to think that this is the best thing since Disneyland, and lets out a high-pitched squeal of delight that sends Sonya running into the room to check on her.

She smiles at the pair of us, once she sees what we're up to and I have to admit that I'm enjoying it too. Unfortunately, Sonya isn't the only Belikov who was alarmed by the loud noise.

A thump issues from upstairs, followed by a very bad word in Russian that makes Sonya grin.

"He's lucky Mama isn't home," she smirks. "She'd wash his mouth out with soap."

"I don't think it would help much," I reason. "If pure alcohol didn't do the trick, then nothing will."

I set Irushka on my hip and follow Sonya through to the kitchen to retrieve the tray. She points at a large glass of suspicious liquid that sits beside a plate heaped with eggs, bacon and bread.

"Don't let him eat anything until he finished that," she says.

I wrinkle my nose. "What is it?"

"Hangover cure," she shrugs. "Believe me, you don't want to know what's in it."

Looking at the thick brown-green sludge, I swear I just saw something move. "I think you might be right about that." Though I suppose it explains the use of the blender.

I hand Irushka over to her mother, and she promptly inserts a thumb into her tiny pink mouth. Then I pick up the tray and begin ascending the stairs. The hangover gloop is strangely heavy, and I wonder again what on earth is in it. Whatever it is makes the tray difficult to balance, but I finally make it into the darkened room and set it down on the end table as gently as possible.

The lump in the bed visibly recoils at the small _thunk_ that the tray makes and I supress a laugh. I rip away the pillow he's using to cover his head, finding a small measure of vindictive satisfaction in the action.

 _This is what he gets for the countless times he's woken me up,_ I smirk to myself.

I lay a hand gently on his bare shoulder. He's ridiculously warm, and I resist the urge to climb back into bed with him.

"Morning, Comrade."

He makes a sound like a tree falling over, and then rolls onto his back. His eyes remain scrunched up as he brings a hand gingerly to his forehead.

"I am way too old for this," he groans, his voice husky and thick.

"You smell like a distillery," I inform him.

"I don't give a shit," he replies.

I grin. "Well, okay then, mister grouchy, I'll just leave you in this bed to pickle in the alcoholic content of your blood and take this tray back downstairs."

"Tray?" He sits up abruptly, but instantly regrets it, and I revel in the retribution he receives for his attitude.

"Yeah. Apparently you have to drink this."

I hand him the glass and he makes a face. "I want some eggs first."

"After you drink that," I say firmly. "Sonya told me specifically not to let you eat before you finish it."

He sits back against the pillows, muttering darkly in Russian, but obediently takes a sip of the muck. It's so thick that he actually has to chew a little in order to get it down, grimacing as he swallows. His hand flies to cover his mouth in an instant, and I reflexively dodge away, thanking my lucky stars for my Guardian reflexes.

"Are you going to throw up?" I call from halfway across the room.

He swallows manfully and, after a second, shakes his head.

"No, I'm good. I'd forgotten how awful this stuff is."

"You make it sound like you've had to drink a fair amount of it before."

He gives me a sheepish look before hiding his face in the glass as he takes another gulp. I make a mental note to ask Sonya for the recipe, just in case.

I watch as, astonishingly, he manages to finish the entire glass without puking, then sets it aside and lies back on the pillows, closing his eyes.

Even hungover, he looks incredible, though a little greener than usual. My eyes rove appreciatively over his rumpled bed hair and five o'clock shadow, also taking note of how his muscles are standing out from the strain of what must be one bitch of a headache. His jeans, which I had left on him the night before, lie in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the bed.

"Don't, Rose," he sighs, pressing the heels of his palms against his closed eyes. His voice is deeper and rougher than usual, and it makes my heart accelerate.

"Don't what?" I ask innocently.

He drops his hands and opens his eyes, slightly bloodshot. "You know what," he says wryly. "You wouldn't be able to get it up either, after forcing a glass of that stuff down."

I look dubiously at the dregs of the mystery gloop and decide that he has a point. I don't even bother asking how he knew what I was thinking with his eyes closed.

"Are you still hungry?" I ask.

His lip quirks at the change of subject, but he glances down at the tray of food next to him. "A little," he says, then pats the bed next to him in invitation. "Let's have breakfast."

I sidle over to him and slide in under the covers, wriggling until I'm right next to him where I can absorb his warmth. Chuckling quietly, he wraps an arm around my waist.

"So, what do you want first?"

He glances over at the breakfast tray.

"Maybe I should start small. Just give me a piece of bread."

I do as instructed, then dish myself a portion of eggs and bacon, squirming into a sitting position so that I can eat without messing. After a couple of bites of his slice of bread, Dimitri sits up next to me, leaning his bare shoulder against mine for support.

I shovel a forkful of eggs into my mouth and close my eyes in bliss.

"That good, huh?" he grins, seeming more and more like his normal self by the second. I really have to get that recipe.

"I want to marry these eggs," I say simply, savouring the flavour.

"Hmm. Maybe I should ask them for some pointers." He leans in and inhales the steam from my plate. "They really do smell good. That could be the first step, I suppose. Don't smell like a distillery?"

I roll my eyes. "Shut up and try these eggs."

I lean closer and ferry a forkful of eggs towards his mouth, but the vibration of his laughter at my reaction makes me drop it in his lap. I sigh and go to retrieve it, then look back up at him with an eyebrow raised.

"I thought the glass of sludge rendered you impotent?" I say dryly.

He moves his hand to the small of my back, pressing me closer to him.

"That is not what I said," he grins. "And besides, you wouldn't be able to keep your hands to yourself either, if you had a woman as beautiful as mine in your bed."

"You know," I breathe, "I read somewhere that sex is supposed to help relieve headaches."

He brings his mouth to mine. "Let's test that theory."

* * *

Author's Note

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! Especially after waiting a ridiculous amount of time for this update! Every review, follow and favourite simultaneously brings a smile to my face and makes me feel guilty for not writing more often. Please let me know what you think, I really do love hearing from you, and follow and favourite too, if you think it's worth it.**

 **I'm sorry! I know that this update is long overdue, and the bad news is that I literally have nothing for the chapter after this. See, I had all these things I wanted to happen in this fic, and I would keep them in mind when I was writing, kind of like joining up all the events into one continuous story. But then, my magical brain went off on a tangent that has thrown me entirely. I never planned for Rose to die. It is an excellent plot twist (though I do say so myself) but I have no idea what to do with it. So if any of you have ideas, prompts or suggestions, please, please, PLEASE help me out? You can PM me or leave a review, I just really need inspiration.**

 **Shout out to** **RomitriIsMyMaximumMortalFlaw, my fantastic colour-coding Beta! If you're looking for something to read, you should take a look a her fics. I promise you will not be disappointed.  
**

 **I do not own the Vampire Academy universe, or the characters therein.**


	12. Chapter 12

The whole "let's not worry about it" thing doesn't work out too well. For the rest of the morning, every time he thinks I'm not looking, Dimitri shoots me a look with such a level of concern that it could only be warranted by the belief that I will explode at any moment. And due to his guardian expertise, I'm sure that I only catch him a quarter of the time.

Another annoying habit that he's taken up is just being everywhere, I open a door and he's on the other side, I turn a corner and he's leaning casually against a wall. I try to escape to the kitchen and he conveniently needs something to drink. Finally, I just can't take it anymore.

I head up to our room where I know he'll follow me and wait for him to materialise. It doesn't take long.

He walks into the room and starts rifling through his bag, like he's forgotten something, but I know better.

"Dimitri, stop."

"Hmm?" he looks up from the canvas bag – the _empty_ canvas bag, seeing as we've already unpacked everything. Grabbing a stray chocolate wrapper, he continues innocently, "Oh, I just came in here to throw this away."

I roll my eyes. "Don't insult my intelligence."

"I apologise for caring enough about our planet to recycle."

I let out a frustrated groan and plonk myself on the bed, putting my head in my hands.

"Okay, fine. I'm following you."

"Gee!" I mumble to my palms. "I had no idea."

He sits down beside me and I emerge from my hands.

"Remember when asked you not to worry about it?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Yes. That's why I was being subtle."

I let out a snort. "You were not being the least bit subtle, Comrade."

"And you know that I can't just 'not worry.'"

"I know," I sigh, "and I love you for it. But you're driving me crazy."

His eyes warm as he looks at me. "I think you mean _crazier_."

I punch him on the shoulder.

"Seriously though, I'm worried about you," he says, smile fading.

My eyes lock onto his. "Do you think I'm not?"

He reaches out a hand and strokes my cheekbone with his thumb. "We just need to figure out what to do."

I reciprocate, placing my hands on either side of my face. "Well, the one thing that you don't need to do is follow me around like I'm a living time-bomb, okay? You're freaking me out."

The corner of his mouth quirks. "I think I can manage that."

I suppose that technically he sticks to his word, after our conversation. However, the solution that he finds to not following me around is not letting me leave his side. I feel like the victim of a horrific superglue accident.

After what seems like an age, I decide that I have to find a way to lose my newly-acquired Siamese twin, one way or another. Just as I finish lunch, I decide to make my move.

The food on my plate is hardly touched when I stand, pushing my chair back. This is half because the ball of anxiety that seems to have settled in my stomach doesn't leave much room for anything else, and half because Dimitri scooted his chair so close to me that I could barely move my elbows in order to use my cutlery.

"Mark and Oksana have invited Dimitri and me over for dinner tonight," I announce. "So I think I'll take a walk. There are a couple of things I want to buy."

My Russian shadow stands up beside me. "Okay, I'll go with you."

My fist clenches around my knife, and for one crazy moment, I actually consider incapacitating him in order to get some time to myself. Across the table, Olena guesses my intent and jumps in, before I can do any damage.

"Actually, Dimka, there are some things I need you to do for me at home. I'm sure Rose won't mind if I steal away my only son for an afternoon."

He opens his mouth to protest, but Viktoria intercedes.

"I've been meaning to go shopping myself," she says. "I can show Rose where the best places are."

"Sounds good," I reply.

Dimitri narrows his eyes. "Why do I get the feeling that you're all conspiring against me?"

Karolina laughs. "It's those Westerns of yours, _bratik_. They're making you paranoid."

"Well, Rose, if you want to be back in time to get ready, you two had best be going," Olena says warmly.

I nod and smile my thanks, following Viktoria through the doorway. Just as we're about to leave, Yeva calls something after us and I manage to catch one of the words.

"Did she say something about a hat?" I ask Viktoria, shrugging on my coat.

"Very good, Rose," she grins. "She said you should wear a hat."

She grabs one off one of the hooks and puts it on my head. I'm not entirely sure about this supposed sage advice, but I don't want to delay our leave, so I don't argue. And then we're out the door with the sun shining brightly on the crisp white snow, the fresh air in my lungs and my surroundings delightfully Dimitri-free.

We chat about this and that as we wend our winding way through the quaint cobbled streets, but I'm mostly just enjoying my freedom. Sometimes, when we turn a corner, I think I catch a glimpse of him out the corner of my eye, but when I turn to look there's nothing there but snow and the occasional street lamp. I guess some part of me is just expecting him to follow us.

"So," Viktoria begins after the appropriate length of time. "What's up with you and my brother, anyway?"

"Nothing much," I reply with a smile. "I just need a little space."

She smirks. "I'm not surprised. Although it's nice to see how much he loves you, following you around like a puppy."

"Tallest puppy I've ever seen," I joke, and our laughter effectively marks the end of that conversation.

When we reach the square, Viktoria points out the different stores.

"That's a good place to buy clothes," she says, gesturing to a homely little boutique off to one side. "Of course, you know the bakery, but next door there's a nursery, and a bookstore on the other side of that."

I dutifully glance at each proffered shop, but having come here without any plan of action other than getting some much needed breathing room, I'm unsure what to do now that I'm actually here.

 _What I really need_ , I think to myself, _is a distraction._

Looking back to where Viktoria is still pointing at various businesses, I remember my promise to Lissa and a grin spreads across my face.

"Are there any salons around here?" I ask, interrupting some explanation about a coffee shop's recent closure.

"Uh, sure, there's a good one just around the corner. Why?"

I turn to her, still grinning. "You want to get a manicure?"

An hour of filing, buffing, polishing and pampering, Viktoria and I walk out of the shop staring lovingly at our new nails. I move my hand this way and that, making my black and red ombre manicure glint dangerously as they catch the sunlight.

"So, what do you want to do now?" Viktoria asks, fluttering her own choice of pale pink nails before her so that the rose gold accents almost dance across her fingers.

"Well," I reply, lowering my hands just in time to avoid the pole I was about to walk into. "I feel much better, but while we're here, I think I'll get something for Oksana to say thank you."

Viktoria has some things to buy as well, but in a different part of the square, so we agree to meet up again in an hour. As she hurries off, I glance back down at my pretty hands and smile.

There's a motion just out of my range of vision that catches my attention, and instinctively I turn my head. There's something familiar about it. There, in that alley! That brown hair, that graceful movement despite the great height, it's… nothing.

I squint my eyes and look again at the entrance to the alley, where I swear Dimitri was standing a split second ago. Cautiously, I walk over to the empty space and look around, but there's no sign that anyone was here; the snow is untouched apart from my own muddy footprints. I frown.

 _This is getting out of hand,_ I chide myself.

You'd think that after spending most of the morning with him mirroring my every move, I could go a couple of hours without missing him at all, let alone missing him to the point that my brain conjures him up everywhere I go! Still internally fuming, I turn back the way I came and escape into the first shop I reach.

A gust of warm air greets me, and I find myself enveloped in the smell of fresh green leaves and rich earth. I'm in the nursery, then.

I wander up and down the aisles of pots, tools, plants and fertilizer until I feel calmer, taking in the sight of the spectacular array of flowers. The petals of each different bud form a myriad of diversity; a plethora of textures, shapes, sizes and colours. I find myself getting lost in the reassuring velvet of the plants around me.

One in particular catches my eye. The flowers are small and, at first glance, plain white with frothy petals like a ballerina's skirt. However, upon further examination, I discover that there is a tinge of purple around the edges. As I lean forward to take a closer look, I inhale the scent. Not sickly sweet like some of the others, but still lovely, possessing the fragrant undertone of a herb. Something about it immediately makes me think of Oksana.

I pay for my purchase and carry it outside in its special bag, careful not to crush or jostle it as I walk. I still have some time to kill, so I duck into the bookshop next door.

I browse idly, not enough of a reader to pay much attention to anything other than the colours of the spines. I find the smell of pages comforting, as it's something I associate with Dimitri. Maybe I should get him a new Western, while I'm here; he could use something to take his mind off of this whole ordeal. I know how helpful a distraction was for me.

I almost walk right past the display case, despite the glittering lights, but I glimpse the relatively plain black box within and it starts me thinking.

Dimitri loves reading, I know this. I also know that his book collection takes up a lot of space. Aside from being pretty heavy to lug around and occasionally stealing his attention away from me, they have also almost killed me once or twice when I've tripped over them in the dark. This could be a convenient way to distract him and enact my revenge upon his paper buddies all at the same time.

 _I know that he has complained about the concept of an eBook in the past,_ I muse as I walk out the store. _Loudly and at length. I know that he will object to owning one at first._

However, I also happen to know that underneath it all, Dimitri is not the type of guy that can resist a new toy.

Viktoria spots me just as I tuck the bag under my arm.

"Successful shopping trip?" she asks.

"Very. Did you get everything you need?"

"Yup," she grins, and we set off for home.

The walk is a little more challenging on the way back, and I find that the exercise warms me up nicely. After a few more minutes, I become less satisfied as my head heats up and begins to prickle under the stupid hat. The prickle transforms into an itch, which soon becomes absolutely unbearable.

With an exclamation, I rip the dumb thing off my head and smooth my hair down.

"So much for that," I grouch. "I guess Yeva was wrong this time. This has served no purpose whatsoever."

But Viktoria isn't listening to me. Her attention is on a bush just off the side of the road.

"Blueberries!" she cries.

"What?"

"Wow, it's pretty late for these to be out. I can't believe we found them!"

She steps off the path and trudges into the shadow through the rough snowy scrub, picking one rich dark orb and popping it into her mouth. With a shrug, I follow her over to the bush.

Her delight is pure and childlike, and I can't help but smile at her enthusiasm. However, a problem does occur to me. I hate to put a damper on her fun, but voice the issue nonetheless.

"We can pick some, but how are we going to carry them?"

Her smile fades for a moment, but brightens again when she sees something in my hand.

"The hat!"

After a moment of initial surprise, I hand it to her; the interior is of course the perfect colour so that the juice stains won't show.

 _"_ Come on!" I groan. "That doesn't count!"

She just grins at my reaction and starts dropping berries into the hat. I join her, letting my indignation fade.

 _It was just a coincidence,_ I think to myself. _It could have been used for anything._

When the bush is much emptier and our hat is almost overflowing, we turn away with purple fingers and laughter and start walking home again.

The sun hovers above the horizon, beginning its descent, and it must just be a trick of those sinking rays that I catch sight of Dimitri once more, standing in the shade near the bush.

My head whips around, but like all the other times, he is not there. However, this time, the place he was standing is not empty.

I drop my bags in the snow and the very next moment, my stake is in my hand.

"Viktoria, run! Get into the sunlight!"

I don't see if she has time to obey before the Strigoi is in front of me. He lunges forward.

* * *

Author's Note

* * *

 **Thank you for reading, and for your patience! I finally figured out more or less what the hell I'm doing with this fic, so yay! Thank you for all your support. If you enjoyed this chapter, please leave a review and favourite and follow as you see fit.**

 **I had a good Christmas and New Year, and I hope that those of you who celebrate did too. I am also one year older and trying to figure out this island of confusion known as adulthood. However, I did FINALLY get my sister to read the VA series, which is a major win.**

 **A huge thank you to my Beta,** **RomitriIsMyMaximumMortalFlaw! If you're looking for something to read, you should take a look a her fics. I promise you will not be disappointed.  
**

 **I do not own the Vampire Academy universe, or the characters therein.**


	13. Chapter 13

Like most Strigoi, he's exceptionally tall. And of course, he underestimates me because of my size and gender. It doesn't take much time for me to correct his error.

Reaching up, I rake the silver tip of my stake across his chest, ripping the fabric and connecting with his bare skin. He roars, instinctively doubling over, which gives me the perfect opening to knee him in the face. The impact shudders through my kneecap and up my leg, but I ignore it. I can't hear the crack over the sound of his outrage, but I feel his nose break against the hard bone, and the rush of warm blood that follows. However, he recovers his senses alarmingly fast.

His hands curl around my thigh with a grip of iron, and my balance starts to waver. If I go down, my life will become much more difficult. Before he can flip me over, I plunge my stake into his unprotected back, angling upwards to get his heart.

It's an awkward angle, and I have to stretch to the extent of my reach, but by some stroke of luck, I hit home. His ice-blue eyes go cold, and I feel the so-called life drain from him. The last thing I want to do is stick around.

"We should go," I say to Viktoria as I join her in a patch of fading sunlight. "It'll be dark soon, and there could be more."

She says nothing, simply staring at the body on the ground.

"We don't have time for this! Viktoria!"

I grab her shoulder, shaking her out of her state of shock just enough to get her legs going. She follows me without a word, eyes wide as she tries to match my brisk pace. Somehow, the infernal blueberries have remained in the hat, unharmed, and she clutches them to her chest as she goes. When the street of the Belikov house is in sight, I slow down a little so she doesn't have to work so hard. She finally regains the power of speech.

"Are you okay?" she asks. "Are you bleeding?"

I'm confused for a moment before I look down at my jeans, which are covered in blood from the Strigoi's broken nose. My hands are sticky with it too, and I wipe them off on the denim. At this point, it really doesn't make a difference.

"I'm okay," I reply. "How about you?"

She hesitates, then gives a nod. "I'm fine. That was amazing. I didn't even see him until he was in front of you, how did you know he was there?"

We've reached the house, and start climbing the porch steps. I glance over my shoulder at the gathering dark, not wanting to admit to myself that I'm looking for a familiar spectre. I scan the horizon for a moment, making sure I find it empty before I speak.

"Just got lucky. Let's get inside."

At the sound of the door closing behind us, the real Dimitri emerges from the kitchen, drying his hands on a dishtowel. For a split second he starts to smile, but then he catches sight of the blood. In two massive strides, he's standing in front of me.

"What happened?" He uses his guardian voice, automatically slipping into business mode to hide his panic.

"We stopped to pick berries and there was a Strigoi in the bushes," I reply in kind, keeping my voice professional. "I staked him and left him in the snow. I assume he was alone, but we didn't wait around to test that theory. The blood is from his broken nose."

Viktoria jumps in before he can speak: "We're both okay. It was my fault that we stopped, but Rose was incredible. You should have seen her."

When he looks at me, relief beginning to creep into his eyes as he smiles. "I wouldn't have to see her to know that."

"I learned from the best," I smile back.

We tell the family the story, but they listen in silence. When the retelling is over, I can feel their strength around me, which I need more than I would have thought. I'm so grateful for their presence; somehow it helps to calm the confusion in my head.

Olena thanks me, reinforced by fierce nods of agreement from her other daughters. Yeva wordlessly steps forward and retrieves the hatful of berries, then disappears with them into the kitchen. I'd bet anything that she can feel the daggers I glare at her retreating back, but she ignores me entirely. Dimitri puts a hand on my shoulder.

"We should go upstairs and get ready. Mark and Oksana are expecting us." When he turns away, I follow.

As soon as we're alone, he closes the door and wraps his arms around me, nuzzling his face into my hair.

"Roza," he breathes, putting an astounding amount of meaning into one simple word. I pull back slightly in order to see his face, reaching up to stroke his cheek.

I'd meant it to be reassuring, but I can't help but crack a grin.

"What?"

I shake my head, leaning into him as I attempt to stifle my laughter.

"What's so funny?" I can tell that he's trying not to smile; a simple reaction to my own mirth.

"Nothing much," I chuckle. "It's just…you need to shave again."

The tension in his shoulders evaporates, and he laughs along with me, though he rolls his eyes, too. He plants a kiss on my nose with a resigned sigh before disappearing into the bathroom. A moment later, I hear the sound of a running tap, followed by the familiar rasp of his razor.

When I lean down to take my sneakers off, I see the evidence of my shopping trip dumped unceremoniously on the floor where I suddenly remember dropping them upon our entrance. Surprisingly, both items survived the ordeal unscathed. I gently unpack them, relocating them to the relative safety of the bedside table, then I turn my attention to my current state of dishevelment.

My jeans are a lost cause. I strip them off and throw them in the trash, shedding my shirt and tossing it on the floor on my way to the bathroom. Dimitri is almost done, and is shaving underneath his jaw as I walk in and turn the shower on. In the mirror, I see his eyes flash over to me and I have to hide a smile when he momentarily loses focus, coming dangerously close to cutting his throat.

Figuring I'd best not distract him any further, I stand beneath the stream of hot water, allowing it to sluice away the day's stress and sweat. I lose myself in the rhythm of the drops drumming against my skin, lathering the soap between my hands until there is a thick froth of scented bubbles that I can spread across my skin like a caress. Dimitri joins me after a few minutes, and we help each other to de-stress further, though it probably doesn't do much to get us cleaner.

I dress simply to save time, but of course Dimitri is ready before me.

"Hey, could you get the bag on the bedside table?" I call over my shoulder. "I got something for Oksana to say thank you."

I hold my hair tie between my teeth, concentrating on my reflection as I coil my hair up into what I hope is an artfully messy bun.

"You got her an eReader?" I can almost hear his raised eyebrow.

"No, the other bag."

My hair is secure, and I quickly and strategically pull out several strands to hang loose. I smile at my reflection, happy with what I've achieved in such a short space of time. Turning, I see him peering into the bag he holds. I can smell the fragrance of the blossoms from across the room.

"It's pretty," he says. "Good choice."

"Thanks," I reply.

He looks up as I walk over, and his eyes warm. "I like your hair like that."

I regard him appreciatively, noting with a smile that we've both chosen to wear black sweaters, and he has his own hair tied up so that it's all out of his face. I stretch up on my toes so that I can tug one strand loose from his tie. It curls in adorably at his chin.

"Now we match," I laugh.

The tension that he seemed to forget when we were alone returns to his posture almost as soon as we leave the room. He strokes a hand over the spot in his jacket that conceals his stake, double checking that it's there. I find myself absorbing his concern, paying attention to the added weight of the silver at my belt and drawing some small comfort from its reassuring presence.

He calls out in Russian as we leave, to inform his family of our exit, I can only assume. He pulls me close to his side as we emerge into the crisp evening air and makes no effort to check his long, brisk strides along the path, but I have little trouble keeping up, even with my shorter legs.

The truth is, being outdoors again unnerves me. The shadows deepen as we move, especially once we enter the woods. I'm half expecting to catch a glimpse of Dimitri's shade in the gloom, even though I have the man himself beside me. I tell myself that it was just my imagination, but that tiny voice niggles away in my head, until I know that I have to ask him, if only for the sake of my sanity.

"Hey, Comrade?" I ask, keeping my attention on the trees around us, watching for any threats. "What did you do while I was shopping?"

Likewise, his own eyes vigilantly sweep the dark trees in our proximity as he answers. "Nothing much. Mama just had me help with some chores. I moved a couple of boxes in the attic, helped her measure the living room window for new curtains, then I washed the dishes. Why?"

I choose my next words carefully. "And you stayed at home the whole time? You didn't…leave for any reason?"

I know his answer before he gives it, and I expect the strange look he shoots me as he speaks: "No, Mama kept me busy the whole time. I knew I should have gone with you, but she said I needed to give you breathing room."

I nod, as if accepting this answer out of mild curiosity, and we don't speak for a few minutes as we walk.

We're nearing our destination when Dimitri frowns.

 _Here we go_ , I think grimly. _I'm busted. If he asks what that was about, I'll have to tell him._

But he has a very different question to pose. "So, if the plant is for Oksana, what did you buy the eReader for?"

I almost laugh. _Here we go indeed_.

"You, of course."

For the first time, he takes his eyes off of our environment, shooting me a reproachful look. "You bought it for me? Why?"

I shrug, trying to hide my smile. "I figured you could use a distraction."

"I prefer the distraction of actual pages between my fingers, thanks."

"Pages that weigh four times as much and take up triple the space?"

"Yes. Those eBooks just don't smell the—why are you laughing?"

"I can't help it," I wheeze. "I knew exactly what you would say."

He rolls his eyes. "And yet you bought it anyway. Why is that funny?"

I start to calm down. "I don't know, it's just been a weird day. Comic relief is good for me."

He sighs. "That's what I'm here for, I guess."

The house lights begin to show through the trees, illuminating his resigned expression. I beam up at him.

"Don't sell yourself short, Comrade. You're also good for decoration."

He snorts. "And better than a vibrator, hopefully."

I knock on the door, grinning, and stand back to wait. Footsteps sound on the other side.

"This may not be the best conversation for company," I say in a low voice.

"I think you might be right about that."

The door opens.

"Rose, Dimitri," beams Oksana. "Please, come in."

* * *

Author's Note

* * *

 **As always, thank you for reading, and for your astounding support! Please leave a review to tell me what you thought of this chapter, and favourite and follow as you see fit.**

 **I've recently reread the series because my WiFi was down again, and it came as such a shock when I discovered that I am now older than Rose. It really rekindled my love for these books though, and I really hope I'm doing them justice. Looking back, I can see every little cringey thing that I've gotten wrong, but I will eventually go back and fix them. Thank you for sticking with me.**

 **A huge thank you to my Beta,** **RomitriIsMyMaximumMortalFlaw! If you're looking for something to read, you should take a look a her fics. I promise you will not be disappointed.**

 **I do not own the Vampire Academy universe, or the characters therein.**


	14. Chapter 14

It really is a testament to Oksana's superb cooking that I don't tire of the concerned glances that her and Mark keep shooting back and forth until we've had third helpings of everything. When we're done, we head through to the living room with comfortably distended stomachs. Dimitri and I sit next to each other on the couch.

"So," Mark begins, sharing yet another communicative look with his other half. "You want to tell us what happened?"

With my belly full of food, the late hour, and all the terrible things that have happened to me lately, I suddenly feel exhausted. Where do I even begin? With a sigh, I lean into Dimitri slightly, drawing from his strength. Reading my fatigue, Oksana offers a small smile.

"I'm assuming this has something to do with your bond-mate?" she says.

I almost laugh. "I suppose you could put it that way."

And then I begin, launching into the story. Dimitri helps a little in the beginning, rehashing how Lissa transformed him back into a dhampir. Though Mark and Oksana keep glancing at each other, they allow us to speak without interrupting.

When I tell them that Lissa and I are no longer bonded, Oksana frowns and her eyes dart across the space around me, but she doesn't say anything. It's odd that she'd be confused by this of all things, but I press on.

"… and apparently my heart had stopped for a while. So, I guess I'm shadow-kissed again."

I fall silent after this, instinctively holding back the events of today. I'd rather not share something that I'm not entirely convinced is actually happening, let alone that it's connected to everything else. But somehow I get the feeling that Oksana knows I'm not telling them everything. I know that if she really wanted, she could rifle through my head. Luckily, I know that she doesn't like to use her gift lightly.

There's a full minute of silence as they take it all in. Then Mark stands up.

"Drinks anyone?"

The next ten minutes are devoted to the location of four glasses, while Mark produces a label-less bottle of potent Russian vodka. I take a sip from mine without thinking and almost gag. Unbelievably, it's even stronger than the regular stuff. I grimace as I swallow it, igniting a trail of liquid fire down my throat and making my eyes water. Despite the serious nature of the impending conversation, Dimitri grins into his own glass and I sneak him a glare.

Mark tries to cover his laugh with a cough. "Do you like it? We made it ourselves."

"That explains it."

Dimitri rolls his eyes. "It's excellent. Don't mind her."

There's an amiable silence, broken by Oksana. "So, you say you're no longer bonded to your friend?"

"That's right; which is why she tried out the charm."

She pauses to take a sip of her drink. "You wouldn't happen to have the bracelet with you?"

I start to shake my head, but Dimitri cuts me off.

"Yes."

Ignoring my look of surprise, he gingerly extracts the shiny silver chain from his pocket. I notice that he's very careful not to touch it more than necessary as he hands it to Oksana. She makes no comment on the unicorn bauble, simply holding it between her palms. When she closes her eyes, it almost looks like a prayer. Heaven knows we could use it.

While she's busy, Mark explains.

"Last time we saw you, there was a ring of black around your aura, which is what you would expect of someone who is shadow-kissed."

I nod.

"The next bit is a little harder to describe," he continues, "but I suppose it's a physical manifestation of your bond. There was a link between you two, a small tendril of her aura in yours. And finally, the dull gold specks of the love you had, coloured with the grief you bore."

His eyes flick to Dimitri and then back to me, a smile crinkling at the corners. Dimitri reaches over and threads his fingers through mine. The reassuring pressure of his hand helps me to steel myself for what I know is coming.

Oksana looks up, seeming to have concluded her examination of the bracelet. "An interesting charm; very complex. But I'll continue telling you about your aura first."

She leans forward, setting the chain on the side table in the meantime, then resettles herself more comfortably into her chair.

"Mark told you what I saw in your aura when we first met. Normally, auras are pretty consistent. The colours can change according to what you're feeling, but the essence stays the same."

I look over at Dimitri, who's listening with a quiet intensity.

"Rose, your aura has undergone more than one distinct change."

I nod again, because I don't know what to say. Dimitri, on the other hand, asks her what she means.

"It's not a bad thing, necessarily. The gold, for example, is much more prevalent and about as bright as the sun, especially when you two are together." She smiles briefly before carrying on. "Then there are some flecks of silver, obviously from the spirit in this bracelet. The good news is that although there are some patches, there's no black ring around the edge. You're not shadow-kissed."

Not shadow-kissed? I frown. "But I don't understand. I was dead, Dimitri brought me back."

She shrugs. "I can only tell you what I see. Doctors resuscitate their patients all the time, so I imagine that it's because it wasn't spirit that brought you back."

"Wait," Dimitri says. "You said that was the good news. Is there bad news as well?"

Mark shoots Oksana a look of concern, his brow furrowed. Dimitri and I both turn to him when he begins to explain.

"You said that you are no longer bonded to your friend. The problem is that there is still some evidence of a connection in your aura. It's not very strong; definitely not strong enough to be a fully-fledged bond. And something also tells me that it's not connected to your friend."

"How can you tell?" I ask.

"Her influence added a small amount of darkness," he replies. "But it was mostly pink and silver. It was very clearly good. But this…there's some black with plenty of red mixed in. It looks like someone or some _thing_ is drawing energy from you."

There's an air of unpleasantness as this sinks in.

"Surely that would be the bracelet, then?" Dimitri frowns. "It's drawing on her energy, and her heart stopped because it took too much?"

Oksana shakes her head. "That's an elegant theory, but I'm afraid it isn't that simple. As I said, the charm that was put on this bracelet is very complex, and it must have taken months to create. As far as I can tell, it works a little like a tin-can telephone. Except, instead of string, it's connected with spirit. I suppose that it is about as close as you could get to a bond, but obviously there are some differences. It goes two ways, for one, allowing for open communication between the users. And then there's the location.

The bond that I have with Mark is mental. We are linked through spirit by our minds. That means that there is an established channel open between us, so when Mark experiences things from my point of view, it's only his consciousness that leaves him in order to join with mine."

"Okay, I'm with you so far."

"Good. Now this charm is physical. It's rooted in the bracelet, and has to have contact with your skin in order to work, just like all charms. In other words, it is no longer your minds that are connected, it's these bracelets. They're tangible objects."

Dimitri leans forward. "So you're saying that when Rose saw through Lissa…"

"…her soul actually left her body," Oksana says. "And the bracelet was attempting to reunite with its partner, hence how she fell of the bed. When you removed it, you deactivated the charm and her soul returned to her body."

It's more than I could have hoped for. It doesn't sound very complicated, or as though I'm in any danger as long as I don't touch the bracelet again.

A relieved smile spreads across my face. "So, no harm done then."

Dimitri's brown eyes communicate his disapproval. "I highly doubt that. If your soul leaves your body for a full minute, there have got to be some repercussions." He looks at Oksana for confirmation. "Right?"

She shrugs. "I can't imagine that it would be very good for you if it happened more than once. But externally, Rose seems to be okay. Unless there's something else you want to say, Rose?"

I shake my head. "That's everything."

At this point, it's just a relief to know what's been going on with me, and I know I'm not the only one. Dimitri looks more at ease than he has all week. So I'm not going to worry him all over again just because my imagination is running overtime. I can safely write those 'sightings' off as a reaction to stress. Now we can just sit back and enjoy our time together.

The conversation becomes much more light-hearted after that, although Oksana still gives me a few sidelong glances.

An hour later, Dimitri and I say our goodbyes.

"It was good to see you both," Mark smiles as we all walk to the door.

"Yes, it was," Oksana agrees. "And please, if you need help with anything, don't hesitate to ask." Her eyes flick to my face once more as she speaks.

"Thank you so much."

Mark claps Dimitri on the shoulder according to that strange masculine code and we take our leave.

Though the forest was already dark when we were heading to Oksana's, now it's positively pitch black. We have to rely on our other senses more fully as we return. Inexplicably, even though Dimitri can see as much of the uneven ground as I can-which is practically nothing-he never so much as stumbles. I, on the other hand, have to grasp his arm to stop myself from becoming rapidly acquainted with some or other treacherous object that hooked on my foot.

While a stubbed toe is much more pleasant than a cracked skull, I still swear vehemently as the pain shoots up my foot.

"Are you okay? Do you want me to carry you?"

"And how the hell would you manage that?"

I hear rustling fabric as he shrugs. "It's not that far to go."

My scowl is lost in the darkness, but I think he gets the point when I carry on walking just a bit more forcefully than before.

"How can you tell where you're going, anyway?" I ask, a few moments later.

"Easy," he replies, sounding amused. "I'm badass."

The snort that escapes me is so forceful that I almost face-plant again. Only this time, Dimitri's hand stops me as he reaches out and grabs my-

"Hey! Watch it!'

"Sorry!" He immediately retracts his hand. "I thought that was your shoulder!"

"It wasn't."

"I gathered that."

"How short do you think I am?"

His answering laugh ends abruptly as my fist connects with some muscular part of him.

"Okay, okay, truce," he calls. "Give me your hand so that I don't accidentally grope you again."

I obey, and my fingers find his. Our liked hands keep us linked as we start to walk again. A few minutes go by with only the sound of the dead leaves beneath our feet.

"Incidentally, I don't object to groping in general," I say, breaking the silence.

There's a smile in his voice as he replies. "Good to know."

More silence, then he says: "So we really learned a lot tonight."

"We did," I agree. "But there are still some things we don't know."

"True. Every little thing counts though. It's good to know that you're safe.'

"Well, about as safe as I normally am."

He squeezes my hand in response.

Ten minutes later, our feet discover the partially-lit streets of Baia. Our conversation is easier now that we don't have to concentrate as much on where we step, and at long last, we climb the now familiar steps leading up to the Belikov's front door. I smile with Dimitri about something he just said, and my mouth is open to respond. Then I see it.

In my periphery, something stirs, and my insides turn to ice.

 _Not again,_ I plead silently. _This isn't happening._

But while the figure now walking towards us is familiar, he definitely is real. As is the roguish grin on his face that's bound to mean trouble. He's a swirl of colour, so out of place in the snow-bleached darkness.

"Rosemarie!" Abe exclaims. "How is my favourite daughter?"

* * *

Author's Note

* * *

 **Thank you for putting up with my sporadic updating, and for reading this chapter! If you liked it, please leave a review, and likewise if you didn't. It always makes me feel all warm and fuzzy to know what you think. Also, please don't hesitate to favourite and follow should you feel called.  
**

 **T** **hank you for nearly 20,000 views! I am so grateful and excited and asdf;h'u[yrfgkg. There was a time when this was going to be a threeshot and then my hand slipped and now it's over 35,000 words. Whoops. But thanks for sticking with me anyway.**

 **This chapter, dear readers, is what scriptwriters call 'exposition.' If I handed this in, I would fail, but thankfully this is just for fun and procrastination purposes. I do apologise for the information dumping, but I couldn't think of any other way to do it since I'm making this up as I go along.** **  
**

 **My workload is ridiculous at present. I have four scripts to write, not to mention the fact that I'm practically helping shoot something every week, on top of my other responsibilities. I have not written very much of the next chapter, and I've also gotten distracted by a shiny new fic that I decided to start writing for some reason. I blame my brain. So it might be a while before the next update. For which I apologise.  
**

 **As always, a huge thank you to my fantastic Beta reader,** **RomitriIsMyMaximumMortalFlaw! If you're looking for something to read, you should take a look a her fics. I promise you will not be disappointed.**

 **All characters and the VA universe belong to Richelle Mead.  
**


	15. Chapter 15

It's not like we weren't expecting him, or that we didn't know that something was wrong. But looking at him now, with his tired face and suspicious lack of bodyguards, I begin to suspect that things are worse than we thought.

"Mr Mazur," Dimitri acknowledges, his tone polite.

"Guardian Belikov," Abe responds, mirroring Dimitri's unfriendly undercurrent.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

"This really isn't the time for dick measuring," I remind them, and then turn to my father. "Where can we talk?"

He tries to give his usual grin, but fails. "Is that any way to talk to the man who travelled so far just to see you?"

My eyes flash to Dimitri's in a moment of silent communication.

He pulls on a smile. "Well, why don't we get some drinks and catch up?"

"That sounds perfect," Abe replies. "I know just the place."

The mere thought of ingesting more vodka turns my stomach, but I nod and follow when Abe sets off down the street.

After a little while, the route we take begins to look eerily familiar. I recognise the warehouse the instant Abe stops outside it, and I can't help but internally curse my father. He probably thinks it's funny, but I'm not the only one who balks when Abe gestures towards the entrance.

"Something the matter?" he enquires, with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. When paired with the goatee, he bears a striking resemblance to a Disney villain, and I briefly wonder if that isn't why he grew it out in the first place.

Dimitri sets his mouth in a line. "This isn't the type of place I would bring your daughter."

Abe's grin intensifies. "Oh, don't worry, she's been here before."

Dimitri's eyes widen as he looks at me, and I almost hiss at my father's gloating face. I still haven't told him about Rolan.

"We can reminisce later, old man. Let's get to the reason you're here."

"All in good time," he promises, gesturing once more to the entrance. "Shall we?"

Dimitri shifts closer to me as we go, pausing as the dhampir guard opens the door to admit us.

Inside is a riot of people, music, and coloured lights that assault the senses. It would look like an ordinary club, if not for the scantily-clad dhampir girls with bruised necks and glazed expressions. Moroi men stroll through the place like hunters, or retreat to shadowy corners with a girl on their arm. Bile rises at the back of my throat.

Abe saunters in, but I stick by Dimitri. My training kicks in, and my eyes take in every detail, knowing that next to me, Dimitri is doing the same. Neither of us miss the interested looks on the faces of several patrons, or that one Moroi peels himself away from the wall to move in my direction.

He drawls something in Russian that makes Dimitri's fists clench. Before he can start throwing punches, however, Abe materialises.

"This way," he says, but I notice that when he narrows his eyes at the Moroi, he vanishes post-haste.

The room that Abe leads us to is tastefully furnished, surprisingly enough. There's a table covered by pristine white cloth, and surrounded by plush velvet chairs. A sofa sits innocently at the other end of the room, and I unintentionally shy away from it. It's not something that I'd like to see under a UV light.

As soon as we're seated around the table, a pretty dhampir girl arrives with a bottle of wine and three glasses. I avert my gaze from her neck until she leaves.

Instead of cutting to the chase, Abe insists on small talk as he fills and distributes the glasses.

I take a swig of mine, thinking I might need it to get me through the night. Though I'm not generally a fan of red wine, even my plebeian taste buds can tell that this one is expensive. It's delicious.

Tuning back into the conversation, I'm horrified to find that Abe and Dimitri are talking about the series we started watching on the flight over.

"Have you read the books?" Abe asks, with every appearance of innocence.

Dimitri replies, "No, I didn't know there were any. Are they good?"

"Very. But you'll have to wait until your vacation is over; there's no way they'll fit in your duster pocket."

My heart sinks, and I realise that I've made a terrible mistake.

"That shouldn't be a problem," Dimitri smiles. "Rose just got me an eReader."

"Is that so?" Abe grins.

Enough is enough.

"Now that you've basically cost me my boyfriend for the next few months, would you kindly tell us what the hell you're doing here?"

My father's smile wavers, and it looks like it takes a lot of effort for him to keep it in place. "I was in the area."

I snort. "I saw you in Lissa's office. You need our help, don't you?"

He sighs, admitting defeat. "Yes."

"What can we do for you?" Dimitri asks, quietly.

Abe hesitates for a moment. Maybe he's not used to sharing his operations, or maybe it just takes a while to swallow his considerable pride.

"All right," he begins. "I have certain things in place, like a backup plan, if you will. I make sure that the right people know about them, and what will happen if anything happens to me or mine. There is a certain artefact in my possession that is currently being guarded by…an organisation."

His eyes flash to Dimitri. "I believe you know the kind."

Dimitri nods, his expression grim. "Let me guess. It's been safe with them for a while, but recently they've started wondering if the object in question is more valuable to them than the ridiculous fee you pay each month, for them to keep it safe?"

Abe lets out a strained laugh. "Something like that, yes."

"Wait," I frown. "I'm missing something here."

Abe and Dimitri exchange a glance, but Dimitri is the one to explain.

"There are groups of Strigoi who earn their living by providing their protection."

Of course, why wouldn't my father be involved with a group of lifeless monsters?

"So, like a Strigoi bank?"

"Precisely."

"So you want us to infiltrate a group of organised Strigoi, break through who knows how many layers of protection, and somehow escape with our lives and your 'object'?"

Dimitri shrugs. "We've faced worse odds."

"Not the point. What exactly are we risking our skin for, old man?"

Abe grimaces. "How about the opportunity to save the entire Moroi race?"

There's a beat of silence.

"What exactly do you have hidden away in there?" I breathe.

He looks uncomfortable. "It's a flash drive, under the heaviest encryption money can buy, that contains the recipe for…synthetic Moroi blood. It's not the only copy, but it would be catastrophic if it fell into their hands."

My face pales, and next to me, Dimitri curses in Russian.

Abe frowns. "You speak that way around my daughter?"

"I think the situation warrants it. How long do we have?"

"It's a days' drive, and we can plan on the way. I have everything you'll need."

I sigh. I guess our holiday is over, and I can tell that Dimitri's thinking the same thing.

He nods. "I'll tell my family we're leaving tomorrow morning."

"I'm sorry to do this, for what it's worth. You two are the only ones I can rely on."

At the sight of my father's tired face, I can't help but give a small smile. "You've saved us both before, we're just returning the favour."

The Belikovs are sad to see us leave, and honestly, even though I know the stakes of our mission, it's hard for me to leave them. And it's downright impossible for me to watch them say goodbye to the son and brother that they thought they'd lost.

So after some hugs and tears, and even a disturbing smile from Yeva, I make my way outside to give the family a few moments alone. Abe leans casually against the car parked on the verge, seeming nonchalant to the untrained eye. But, knowing him as I have come to, I can see the cracks in his composure.

"He's a good man, you know," he says, out of nowhere. "You could have done a lot worse."

My eyes practically bug out of my head. "Wait…you mean Dimitri?"

He chuckles. "Yes. Unless you have another boyfriend?"

I shake my head, dumbfounded. This is not something I ever expected to hear from my father, who frowns slightly as he continues.

"That's not to say that he hasn't made mistakes, or that I'll ever say this to his face. If you tell him, I'll deny it."

"Trust me, he wouldn't believe me if I did."

He smiles. "All in all, as far as sons go, he'll do."

I groan. "Not you too!"

"Hmm?"

"For the last time, I'm only twenty! Can everyone please slow down with all this marriage talk?"

For some reason, my outburst only makes him smile wider. But it's an odd sort of smile; tinged with sad memories.

"You take after your mother."

"Wait, what?"

His eyes are dreamy and unfocussed, but when he hears my confusion, he snaps back into the present. "Yes, she was only twenty when I asked her to marry me."

My mouth actually drops open.

"She said no, as I think you can gather. Her sense of duty has always been admirable, and I think you get that from her too…" he trails off, and then smirks at my expression. "Why do you look so shocked?"

There are far too many answers I could give. The thought of my mother being in love, pregnant with me, and willing to go it on her own because of her belief in the guardian system. The thought of my father, a Moroi, willing to marry a dhampir that he loved, in order to provide for both of us. The thought of how different my life could have been if she'd given a different answer.

Thankfully, I'm saved from replying by the arrival of Dimitri on the porch behind us. I swing around with a grateful grin

"That took less time than I…"

My smile drops. The porch is empty.

I turn back to see Abe's raised eyebrow.

"Everything okay?"

I can't help but glance behind me once again, just to check.

"Yeah, it's fine. I just thought I saw something. Must have been a trick of the light."

He regards me curiously. "Must have been."

This time, Dimitri's arrival is heralded by an explosion of Russian as every member of his family talks at once, walking outside with him.

Under the cover of the noise, I turn back to my father. "If you could not mention this to Dimitri, that would be great."

He narrows his eyes, but nods nonetheless, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

And then it's one last bone-crushing hug from Olena, and we're on the road. The car is quiet apart from the sound of the engine, as each of us is occupied with our own thoughts.

Abe drives, and Dimitri sits in the front seat and stares out the window. I just replay the conversation I had with my father.

I'm certain that I saw Dimitri leaning on the railing, watching me.

For a second, I try to remember how it felt not to constantly worry about my sanity. Honesty, what did I do with all my time before this whole spirit thing?

After a solid half hour, Dimitri is the one to break the silence.

"So," he says. "You said you had everything we'd need?"

Abe keeps his eyes on the road. "Yes. Rose, there's a compartment underneath my seat, if you'd be so kind."

It takes me a minute to find the tiny catch on the floor, but when I release it, I find a stash of papers and boxes. Wordlessly, I start handing things to Dimitri, beginning with what looks like a blueprint to a multi storey building.

"This is the place?" he asks, and Abe confirms with a nod.

While he unfurls and peruses the blueprint, I rifle through the remaining pile of documents.

There are files filled with information on the Strigoi employees, notes on the guard rotation, extra security measures, and a detailed description of the flash drive and its contents, including pictures.

Slowly, as we go through the mounds of information that Abe collected, we begin to form the shaky skeleton of a plan. I also have a half-formed idea in the back of my mind, and I ask Abe if we need to stop for gas at some point.

"Yes, actually," he replies. "There's a station coming up in a couple of miles."

It's a mercy to stretch our legs and breathe in the cold air, after a morning of being cooped up in the stuffy car. While the two men intend to go into the store and pick up a few extra supplies, I opt instead to stay outside and wait for the tank to fill up.

Dimitri follows Abe indoors, with a description of something I need him to buy. I lean against the car as they disappear, and look around the quiet gas station.

After a few minutes, I realise that we probably won't be stopping again for a while, so I decide to go to the bathroom while I can. It's surprisingly not terrible, as far as gas station bathrooms go.

Standing before the sink, I watch my reflection in the cracked mirror as I tie my hair up in a bun. I see a shadow move at the edge of my vision, and something about it makes my blood run cold.

No one else can be in here. I didn't hear the door open.

Before they know what's hit them, I whip around and grab my stake from its holster. I'm about to demand to know what they're doing here when the words freeze on my lips.

He regards me coolly with those painfully familiar blood red eyes, fangs visible due to the feral grin he wears.

Without a second thought, I bring my arm up and plunge my stake into his chest. He doesn't make the slightest attempt to protect himself, but I don't have time to wonder why. That is, until my hand passes right through him.

I stare at his face, my eyes wide with disbelief. He chuckles softly, and it sends a thrill down my spine that I immediately identify as panic.

"You didn't hesitate this time," he says, with a voice straight out of my nightmares. "It's too bad that it won't save you."

"No," I whisper, frozen in shock. "You can't be here. It's not possible."

"Oh Roza," Dimitri sighs. "When did I ever let that stop me?"

* * *

Author's Note

* * *

 **Duhn duhn duuuuuuh. Did you like the plot twist? I've been cooking this up for a while.  
**

 **If you liked the plot twist, the story so far, or if you actually read these notes at the bottom, please feel free to leave a review and let me know! I'm bad at responding, but I assure you that every response is treasured. If you want to favourite or follow, that's entirely up to you, but it is one way to keep up to date with my infrequent posting.**

 **So, I have recently discovered that if there is something you enjoy doing, I would not recommend that you take it up as a job. Writing is ordinarily something that I enjoy, but these scripts for university are another matter entirely. It's gotten to the point where if I so much as sit down at my computer, my fingers practically curl up in terror, and my brain retreats into the recesses of my skull. So I do apologise for the wait. I try to post at least once a month, but that doesn't always work out so well. This hasn't been proofread yet, but I'll update it when I can.  
**

 **A huge thank you to my Beta, reader** **RomitriIsMyMaximumMortalFlaw! Her stories are great, and I would really recommend reading them, if you have a spare moment.  
**

 **This VA universe and the characters therein are the intellectual property of Richelle Mead.**


	16. Chapter 16

"How?"

"You'll have to be more specific." His fangs flash when he talks, his voice sounds cold and claustrophobic.

I keep my silence, just staring at him and hoping each time I blink that he'll disappear.

He shoots me a mocking smile. "Don't pretend that it's the first time you've seen me."

It takes me a second, then it clicks into place.

"It was you!" I gasp.

All this time, I've thought I was going crazy. I thought I was seeing things. I thought it was a side effect of the spirit charm. But now…

"But you can't be here!" I repeat. "Dimitri is a dhampir again! He got his soul back, you're dead! You don't even have a soul, and I'm not shadow kissed, so how can you be a…ghost?"

"Not a ghost, a figment of your imagination. I guess you're just stuck with me."

He leans closer. Even though he's not physically present-even though I can't feel him-I shiver at his proximity. I can't smell him or touch him, but my memory is more than enough.

There's a knock at the door. "Rose? Are you in there?"

"Yeah," I call back, my eyes staying fixed on the apparition before me.

I've done some pretty strange things in my life, but this really takes the cake. Having a conversation with my living, breathing, dhampir boyfriend while his evil strigoi counterpart stands a foot in front of me, with danger in his red eyes.

"Abe wants to keep moving. Is everything okay?"

"No!" shouts strigoi Dimitri, a wicked grin on his face.

I flinch, but there's no reply from the other side of the door, which tells me that I must really be the only one who can see and hear him.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'll be out in a second."

I turn around and stare at my face in the mirror, grasping the sink to ground me.

 _Okay,_ I think to myself, trying to ignore the eyes boring mercilessly into the back of my head. _This isn't as bad as it seems. Just breathe, relax. He can't touch you. He can't hurt you. You'll figure out a way to get rid of him. In the meantime, just pretend he isn't there. You can do this._

I splash some water on my face and leave the bathroom, pretending not to see Dimitri follow me like a shadow.

The real Dimitri waits on the other side of the door, and his eyes sweep my face with concern when I appear. He doesn't speak, but his hand is reassuringly warm and solid in my own.

I walk to the car sandwiched bizarrely between the two different versions of Dimitri, like the angel and devil perched on either of my shoulders, as if I'm living in a twisted cartoon.

"Do you want shotgun?" Dimitri asks, while his counterpart smirks.

"Oh, please say yes. I'll sit on your lap."

"Uh, no, I'm good. I'll take the back."

He nods and opens my door for me, making me smile. But my smile evaporates when the shade clambers gracefully in beside me.

"Oh, Roza. We are going to have so much fun. I'm going to drive you crazy. Well…crazier."

He laughs menacingly at his own joke.

"Oh, this is for you," Dimitri says, and reaches back to hand me a small plastic bag.

His hand passes right through the shade's shoulder, and I half expect some kind of reaction. But there's nothing beyond his questioning gaze due to my hesitation.

"Is it okay?"

Trying to steady my hands, I open the bag and peek inside. "Yes, it's perfect."

He acknowledges my thanks with a nod.

I really should tell him, but where would I even begin? I know he's still dealing with the guilt of his actions when he was a strigoi, and this…this could cause an unimaginable amount of damage. But at the same time, I know how much is at stake. This will be a major setback in the mission, and maybe Dimitri could help in some way….

One thing is certain though. I'm not breathing a word around Abe. If I'm going to tell anyone, Dimitri has the right to know first, and to have his privacy to react. That's not possible around my father.

So I throw myself into planning, trying to ignore the quips emanating from the ghost beside me. It's not easy, since guardians are trained to pay attention to the threat. He fits into that category unequivocally, but I grit my teeth and bear it as best as I can.

Somehow, he interprets my attempt at ignoring him as a challenge. He tries everything from speaking right in my ear, to making horrifically graphic threats about everyone I care for. At one point, he even jerks the steering wheel in a manoeuvre that would have made us head straight into oncoming traffic and killed us instantly. Though he can't seem to affect the physical plane, it still almost gave me a heart attack.

It's dark by the time we pull over at a hotel and sign in under fake names. Needless to say, I am exhausted, and not to mention in a terrible mood.

Abe jokes about getting us a room with three beds, but quickly relents at the sight of my glare.

Finally, Dimitri and I reach the relative quiet of our hotel room, and I collapse onto the giant white bed. I close my eyes and groan.

Dimitri laughs, and I hear the bathroom tap running.

"You've literally been sitting still for fourteen hours," he calls. "How can you be tired?"

I make a non-committal grumble that adequately expresses my feelings and causes him to laugh some more.

"Mmmm, these sheets are so white," strigoi Dimitri purrs into my ear. "I think I'll make them more colourful. I'll spill the blood from your pretty neck and lick it off them. What do you think?"

Despite the fact that he can't touch me, my heartbeat kicks up a notch. I squeeze my eyelids tighter, making the fuzzy orange of my vision fade to black.

I feel a cool hand on my face. "Hey."

His voice and touch soothes me, and I relax a little.

"Roza, what's wrong? You know you can tell me anything."

With a sigh, I open my eyes.

Pale skin. Red eyes. _His hand is on my face._

I vault off the bed.

"Rose?"

Dimitri's eyes are wide, alarmed, and his palms are held out in surrender.

The shade, meanwhile, lies on the bed laughing, because he finally got the reaction he was looking for.

I understand that it was a trick. It was the real Dimitri touching me, but the ghost obviously got his own face right up close, so he'd be the only thing I saw. My skin is covered in goosebumps. And now I have to explain.

"You know how before, when I was bonded to Lissa, I could see ghosts?" I begin.

Across the room, Dimitri nods, waiting for me to continue.

"It's kind of happening again."

To his credit, he doesn't call me crazy, or look more concerned for me than normal. In fact, he looks a little relieved. This is familiar territory for us. We've been here.

"The bond charm caused this?"

"Um, I think so."

He nods, thinking. "Can you control it? Can you shut them out like you used to?"

Somehow, I doubt it, but it's worth a try.

I close my eyes and focus, trying to call up the wall I used during the bond. But whereas before it felt natural, now it's just impossible. The shade is still there when I look up.

"Sorry, sweetheart, but you aren't going to get rid of me that easily."

I ignore his smug smile and shake my head.

"Hmm," muses Dimitri. "Maybe it's somehow specific to the ghost? Is it just one person?"

Oh no. Here it comes.

"Yes."

"Okay, well, who is it?"

Time to take the plunge.

"It's you."

A beat.

"What?"

"It's you," I say again, and he raises an eyebrow.

"How can it be me? I'm right here."

I look in his eyes, delaying the inevitable, then take a deep breath.

"It's you when you…weren't alive."

He frowns, then suddenly his face pales.

"Oh."

"Now you've done it," chimes the Dimitri on the bed.

The real one looks around the room. "I'm-he's-here? Right now?"

I nod, and my eyes flick to the bed involuntarily.

Dimitri follows my gaze, and the shade bears his fangs in a deadly grin. "Pathetic, isn't he? How can you be so happy with a downgrade? "

The real Dimitri stares stubbornly at the bed, apparently trying his hardest to see what I see. I suspect that he also uses the opportunity to hide his face for the moment, while he thinks this through.

"Seriously though," the strigoi continues, "I have something that he can never give you, and I know how badly you want it. Do you remember my bite, little blood whore?"

"Shut up!" I yell, and then curse myself.

"Tut, tut," mocks the shade. "Strike two, Roza."

Dimitri looks unsettled, and that familiar haunted look returns to his eyes. Unable to bear his pain, I cross the room and wrap my arms around his neck.

"I'm sorry," I mumble into his chest.

After a moment, he responds in kind, settling his hands on my lower back and drawing me close.

"It's okay," he breathes. "You can't control it. It's spirit that does this."

I just nod and inhale his scent.

He smells like _my_ Dimitri, warm and comforting. Like coffee and leather and the pages of books, with a hint of cologne and sweat from sitting in the car all day. Safe. Alive.

Before I'm done, he draws away.

"What are you doing?" I ask, when he starts rifling through his bag.

"I think I have something that might help."

The shade snorts from where he lounges on the bed. "Somehow I doubt that. There he goes again, wasting his potential by trying to save the world."

I ignore him.

"Here." Dimitri emerges with a tiny folded square of cloth, which he shakes out into his palm. "Spirit got us into this mess, so maybe it can get us out again."

He transfers the silver ring into my own hand, and the second it touches my skin, the ghost starts to flicker in and out of existence.

"No!" he snarls, but it sounds like he's speaking underwater.

"Anything?" he asks.

I fold my fingers around it, and he disappears entirely.

"He's gone," I reply, my voice full of surprise. "Where did you get this?"

"Lissa made a few things and told me to keep them for you. I always have one with me. You know, just in case."

"I…wow. Thank you."

He shrugs. "I'm glad that it helps."

I open my hand again, and the shade sputters back, like a bad TV signal. He begins cursing like an angry Russian sailor.

"You're probably going to have to put it on, you know."

I look down at the plain silver ring sitting in the middle of my palm. "Yeah, I suppose I will. It looks like a pretty weird size though."

He rolls his eyes. "It doesn't really matter how it looks."

"I guess."

The next morning, we meet Abe down by reception.

As he's checking us out of the hotel, he looks down at my hand and raises an eyebrow.

"Are congratulations in order?" he asks drily.

I shoot a glare at Dimitri, who couldn't be happier about the arrangement.

The downside of the healing charm is that the ring is a very particular size. I suppose it's only fitting that it contains magic, because the ring itself defies the laws of nature. For whatever reason, the only finger that it actually fits is my ring finger on my left hand.

Dimitri thinks it's hilarious.

"No, Dad, my sentiments have not changed since yesterday," I grimace.

That seems to sober up my boyfriend slightly, and he's only half joking when he addresses Abe.

"Besides, I value my life too much not to ask for your blessing first."

Abe grins. "Wise man."

"Suck up," I mutter, just loud enough for Dimitri to hear. Then: "Now come on, don't we have a vault to break into?"

"Yes," Abe agrees. "Let's go."

* * *

Author's Note

* * *

 ** **Thank you for putting up with my sporadic updating, and for reading this chapter! If you liked it, please leave a review, and likewise if you didn't. It always makes me feel all warm and fuzzy to know what you think. Also, please don't hesitate to favourite and follow should you feel called.****

 ** **Apologies for any confusion caused by the end of the last chapter, I hope that this has cleared everything up. But if I'm still not clear enough, or if there are any questions, please ask. I promise that I don't bite :)****

 **Alas, we are nearing the end of this fic. I don't really know how many more chapters there will be, but not very many. Can you believe it just hit 40,000 words? When on earth did I write all that?! Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU for over 25,000 views! I genuinely can't even believe how fantastic and supportive everyone has been. Thank you for sticking with me and for giving me the opportunity to feel encouraged as I write and grow. Every review, follow and favourite makes me want to write more.  
**

 **I've finally handed everything in, and so I'm on holiday for a little bit while I wait for my results. YAY, I can breathe again. I think my scripts turned out pretty well, even if I do say so myself.**

 **The VA universe and all characters therein do not belong to me, and are the intellectual property of Richelle Mead.**


	17. Chapter 17

The plan is simple, almost alarmingly so. Get in, get the thumb drive, and get out again. Pray that nobody notices, and only take down a Strigoi if we have to.

Of course, Abe exhibits his ridiculous connections once more by providing Dimitri and me with what he called a 'goody bag,' which is basically a knapsack filled with enough personally-tailored gadgets to sweeten the deal and get the job done. I feel like we're in one of those spy films, and even though I might not come out of this mission alive, the stupid grin on my face widens every time I hear the click of my charmed silver high heels against the tiles.

"You can't carry stakes, or they won't let you in," Abe had told us during our planning session. "So that means we need to conceal your weapons where they won't think to look."

Dimitri looked at his weapon with disdain. "Luckily for us, strigoi like ostentation. These might just be gaudy enough to explain the reason I'm wearing them."

I just stared in awe at my own deadly stake stilettos. "Man, I am going to look badass."

"Rose, focus." Dimitri's voice calls my attention back to the task at hand, and I forcibly remove my smile and do as I'm told.

We get into the car on the way to the building, and I can see by Dimitri's face that he's running through everything that could go wrong in his head. I take his hand wordlessly, and the small pressure he applies in acknowledgement sets my mind a little more at ease.

 _We'll be okay,_ I tell myself, wishing that I could believe it.

It's the first part that worries me the most; not because I don't think it will work, but because of that haunted look in Dimitri's eyes when we discussed it. Nevertheless, when the car stops outside the nondescript office building, he slips the silver ring onto his finger, and his features become a little blurry.

"Is it working?" he asks, as Abe and I scrutinize his face.

I offer a little smile. "You look a little fuzzy, but I think I know you too well. Abe?"

"It's working," he confirms, as if the self-congratulatory look on his face isn't enough.

"Okay," Dimitri nods, slipping into automatic guardian mode. "Let's go then."

We head towards the main gate and crouch behind a conveniently located bush.

"This is where we split up," he whispers, watching the guards patrol up and down the entrance.

My mental tally tells me that there are at least ten guards posted here, and from what we managed to glean through the basic recon and Abe's documents, there must be another fifty or so patrolling the grounds. Unbidden, my stomach gives a nervous jerk. This is the biggest job we've ever done.

Dimitri surprises me by pulling me towards him. He kisses me fiercely for a moment, and then lets go, his business-like expression firmly back in place.

"I'll see you on the other side."

And with that, he's off, striding confidently towards the main entrance. I crouch in my hiding spot and watch him for a moment. The guards are evidently surprised by his appearance, but I can't follow their conversation. Suddenly, Dimitri grabs one guard by the throat and holds him in the air. The string of Russian that floats back to me on the breeze is gibberish, but Dimitri's tone speaks for itself. I suppress a shiver.

Now the guards seem convinced that it really is him, their whole attitude changes to one of grudging respect and awe. The charm to make him look strigoi evidently works, but it's his behaviour that really sells it. I just hope that the psychological repercussions don't rip away the progress he's managed to make.

Once he's inside, I slink away from behind the bush and quietly make my way around the side of the property, keeping to the snow-covered treeline on my side of the fence. Every time I spot the dark figure of an approaching guard, I melt back into my surroundings.

It's slow progress, but I finally reach the spot near the back that Abe had told us about.

"There's always a way in," he'd said, sitting at the polished table in his hotel room that was spread with reams of pages of information. "We just need to find the weakest point."

Dimitri was sceptically perusing a map of the grounds. "I don't want to be the pessimist here, but I don't think these guys have a weak point," he said, warily. "At least not in their perimeter."

Abe stood up and walked over to where Dimitri was sitting, and leaned over his shoulder to look at the map. Dimitri inched away from my father almost imperceptibly, and if I weren't so tired, I'd laugh.

"There," Abe jabbed a finger onto the map, and I left off rubbing my scratchy eyes with the back of my hand so I could see what he was talking about.

"Hmmm. It could work," Dimitri speculated, looking at the tiny area of fence above Abe's digit.

"Aren't their fences electric?" I'd asked, speaking for the first time in a while.

Abe flapped his hand in a blasé manner. "Oh, I'll figure it out, don't you worry."

"I hope you're right, old man," I mutter under my breath as I approach the section of fence.

The last pair of guards just went past, so I should have a full two minutes to climb the fence.

Briefly debating whether this will be easier to accomplish in heels or with frozen feet, I decide that I value the presence of all my toes too much and jump, twining my fingers into the mesh and beginning my ascent.

There is no current, so I assume that Abe worked something out, but he can't do anything about the barbed wire at the top that I now have to silently navigate. Precious seconds tick by as I try my best not to snag anything on the vicious barbs, and by the time I jump down and land on the frozen ground, I only have about twenty seconds to evade the next rotation.

I stop to consider my choices.

 _Go left._

Before I can change my mind, I hear footsteps on my right, and I hurry out of the way behind a dumpster until they fade away again. When I stand up, it takes me a moment to get my bearings, and, hoping that the map Abe got isn't too badly out of date, I make my way towards my next job.

I don't meet any other guards until I'm right beneath the correct window. Luckily, they were not expecting a small female intruder, and by the time the fair-haired one thinks to go for his gun, I've already whipped off one of my shoes and staked his partner in the chest.

He puts up a bit more of a fight, and my frustration grows. Every moment I spend fighting him is a moment I could be spending on the mission, and the last thing I need is for the noise to attract more strigoi.

I swipe my heel at his face and he dodges back, baring his fangs. While he's focused on the shoe I'm holding, I whip my leg up in an epic roundhouse kick that would have made Dimitri proud. The charmed silver catches him on the jaw, dealing a nasty scratch down his neck that makes him howl with pain. His cry cuts out in a gurgle as I plunge my other shoe efficiently into his chest and pierce his heart. The life drains out of his eyes, and I drag the heavy corpse over to his partner's and frisk the bodies.

After pocketing their ID badges and a mysterious bunch of keys I find in the fair one's coat pocket, I wipe my shoes clean on the fabric of his shirt, and pull out one of the tiny bottles courtesy of Abe's Alchemist contacts. The fast acting chemicals burn away all traces of their defeat.

Turning back to the task at hand, I thank my lucky stars that those guards didn't arrive a minute later, when I would have been climbing up to the window and completely vulnerable. I find my first handhold in the rough texture of the brick wall and heave myself up, beginning my arduous climb up to the window above me.

The cold numbs my fingers, and twice I fumble and almost fall, but finally, my muscles shaking with the effort, I pull myself up onto the window ledge and allow myself a moment to catch my breath. I wonder what Dimitri's doing right now, and how his end of the mission is going. I wonder how we're going to get out of this alive.

Pulling myself together, I produce yet another little bottle that melts the glass of the window, and crawl through the empty frame. I hang by my fingertips, before dropping silently to the floor of the darkened store room that proves that the map is at least somewhat accurate.

Once more I cast my mind back to our planning session, and picture Abe's smug face when he told us that there's always a way in.

 _Yes,_ I muse. _I'm in. But the real question is; how will I ever get out?_

* * *

Author's Note

* * *

 **Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it, or if you didn't, please leave a review to let me know what you think. Even though I'm not so great at responding, your feedback always makes me smile.** **This chapter is unBeta'd, so if you find any mistakes, please tell me so I can correct them.** **If you'd like to follow or favourite, please feel free. I tend to update pretty infrequently, so that's a good way to keep in the loop.** _  
_

 ***GASP* An update! I know, I'm as surprised as you are!**

 **I know this one has been a long time coming, and I apologise for the wait. Thanks for sticking with me anyway, as this fic draws to a close. I have never written anything this long before, and I know that without your support and encouragement, I would have abandoned the attempt a long time ago. Please bear with me for these last few chapters, as I have no idea what I'm doing or when I'll finish the next one.**

 **All credit for the VA universe and the characters therein goes to Richelle Mead.**


	18. Chapter 18

The corridor is empty, by some stroke of luck, but I already have my work cut out for me in the form of the labyrinthine layout.

 _Honestly,_ I grumble to myself, as I round the corner to find yet another tastefully decorated corridor, with plush red carpets that muffle my footsteps. _Is there only one interior designer for like, all bad-guys ever?_

A strong instinct interrupts my scathing ruminations, and I reach out to a random door automatically. Surprisingly, it's unlocked. Once I'm on the other side, I begin to wonder what I'm doing in this bedroom. All jokes aside, it's eerily similar to the room Dimitri kept me in, and from this I can safely assume that it's where these particular Strigoi keep their 'honoured guests.' Thankfully, it's empty at present.

Three sets of footsteps approach on the other side of the door, mutely thudding past before fading away. I frown.

I did not know that anyone was coming. While I was definitely on the alert, there's no way that I could have heard the guards from that distance. And yet, here I am, safely avoiding detection in a room that happened to be unlocked.

 _Think about it later,_ I scold myself after a moment.

It's good advice, and I shake off my weird mood by checking my watch, which is synched with Dimitri's. If everything is running smoothly, he should be on a tour of the establishment, posing as a formidable Strigoi looking to invest in their business. And I still need to find the wing where they're keeping the memory stick.

Once it's safe, I exit the room and close the door quietly behind me. According to the map I've memorised, there should be a stairwell somewhere around here, which will take me to the higher levels. I continue along the corridor.

Eventually I locate the hidden door which gives me access to the stairs. It was cleverly concealed in the pattern of the panelling, and I almost missed it. Slowly, quietly, I ascend the stairs, quickly dispatching the guard I encounter at the top. After hiding his body in a convenient shadowy doorway, I finally emerge in the correct wing of the building.

Ten minutes later, I sneak along the corridor once more. I can't help but internally crow that the plan is going ridiculously smoothly. And of course, no sooner than I've formed the thought, everything goes horribly wrong.

"Hey!"

I don't wait around to answer the yell, instead I sprint away down the passage, as quickly as I can. It's not easy in these shoes, but escape is my only coherent thought.

"Stop!"

I'm not sure why he shouts it, I mean, it's not exactly like I'm going to just roll over an obey him. But from the Russian cursing that erupts behind me, I'm able to ascertain that there are at least three people following me. Which is one more than I can easily take on my own.

I surge forward, pumping my legs even harder as I strive to reach the corner I can see up ahead, and hopefully lose my tails somehow.

 _This is a mistake!_

The thought pops into my head just before I round the corner, and almost slam into four more Strigoi lying in wait. Crap. I guess the others called backup.

Their hands wind around my arms to stop my struggling, their grip so impossibly strong that I know I won't be able to shake them off.

Surprisingly, there's one woman among them; a tall brunette bombshell that must have been a Moroi before she was turned. She must hold some kind of high-ranking position, since the others seem to defer to her, and she's the one that addresses me.

Her cruel red eyes bore into mine, as she lets out a string of Russian.

I don't reply, and she frowns, barking an order that results in one of my captor's fists plunging into my belly. I grunt in pain.

"English?" she says sweetly, and grins when recognition lights my features, exposing her fangs. "What is your name?"

I shake my head in response, and keep my silence. This is followed by a swift kick in the gut, and they let me go as I crumple to the ground, trying to ignore their laughter. I curl into a ball and stare at her black stilettos stabbing into the carpet. My breath wheezes painfully in and out.

Apparently, she's had enough.

"Search her!"

Hands find me once more, and haul me roughly to my feet. The Strigoi attached to them leers at me as his fingers fumble over my body, grabbing my breast and squeezing, while I try my best not to throw up.

"We don't have all day!" the woman snaps, and he continues.

"No weapons," he eventually informs her in a gravelly voice. "She's clean. Wait, hang on…"

I can't help my wince when they find it; the small inconspicuous lump that I'd tried to stash in my ponytail. For a second I believed I'd gotten away with it, but no. He grabs the lump and pulls, wrenching out some of my hair in the process, and making my eyes water.

"No!" I cry, reaching out as he hands it over to the woman, who grins. I take another hit, this time to the face, and I feel the blood begin to drip down from the cut just opened on my forehead.

She holds the thumb drive up to the light, as though verifying its identity. Suddenly, her eyes widen. And then her face is inches from mine.

"Where did you get this?" she hisses, and I try to recoil, but I find myself once more in the Strigoi's vice-like grip.

"It's mine!" I cry, making her eyes narrow.

Her perfectly manicured fingers close around the thumb drive, obscuring it from view, and she turns away.

"Bring her," she commands, and strides off down the corridor.

They drag me along, kicking and screaming, until we reach a large, grand room at the front of the building. For a moment, upon entering, I'm rendered speechless.

Great, tall windows line the wall, tinted to block out the rays of the sun, but still allowing a spectacular view of the grounds beyond. These are framed by elegant ivory curtains, matching the grandeur of the marble floor beneath our feet. Several paintings adorn the walls, and something tells me that they're all priceless originals, in gleaming golden frames.

But on the other side of the room is the real surprise. An impeccably dressed Strigoi, wearing a suit that probably costs more than my kidneys would fetch on the black market. And next to him is Dimitri.

His eyes widen almost imperceptibly when he sees me, and I know that I have to do some ridiculously quick thinking. I don't know how long his spirit charm has left, and we need to get out of here.

Inspiration strikes.

"Master!" I exclaim, lunging towards him.

My captors hadn't been expecting it, and I slide out of their grip, coming to rest on my knees before Dimitri. I bow my head and wait.

The suited Strigoi says something in Russian, and Dimitri nods.

"She's one of mine," he confirms in English, injecting a chilling amount of irritation and carelessness into his tone. The way he says it jogs my memory, and I repress a shudder.

"I'm sorry, Master," I say, pitifully. "I was trying to find you."

He ignores me, speaking once more to the man. "My apologies, Mr Hector. I hope she hasn't been causing any trouble."

The man frowns and adjusts his tie, while the woman steps forward and whispers something in his ear.

"Mr Belikov, I'm afraid your pet may have gotten into one of our most secure vaults."

Dimitri takes the opportunity to glare at me, and I don't even have to act at all as I cower away from him. Heaven only knows how much an act this convincing is going to set him back by. The psychological ramifications are sure to be tremendous, and we'd just started getting somewhere with the healing process.

"Would you be so kind as to accompany Mathilde and me to the vault in question?"

He nods, and after acquiring a nod of permission from Mr Hector, hauls me to my feet and pulls me along beside him.

"I can walk," I tell him in an undertone, having gotten really tired of being dragged everywhere. The motion jars my chest; I'm pretty sure I have some broken ribs from the hits I took. Dimitri loosens his grip a little, and I'm able to stumble along with his long strides.

Three guards accompany us to the vault, walking behind Dimitri and I, while I try not to panic at their evident mistrust. Assuming that Mathilde and Mr Hector are senior members, they must be pretty old, and hence more difficult to take out. Especially when considering the unwieldy nature of our weapons.

Two more guards are stationed outside the vault.

As Mr Hector begins the arduous process of opening the heavy steel door, I realise that it's going to take a miracle for us to get out of here alive. I feel Dimitri's tension beside me, and I know that we're both thinking the same thing.

There are two of us, and though we make a badass team, I'm not sure that we can take on seven Strigoi singlehandedly. I curse Abe again and again, but it's no use. Finally, after Mr Hector enters a 20 digit code and scans his fingerprints, the door swings open and we step inside.

There are no windows, and the room isn't big enough to fit our number, so three of the guards wait outside, blocking the exit. The walls are lined with the same metal that the door is made of. And there, in the centre of the small space, sitting innocuously on a pedestal, is the tiny thumb drive that's wreaked so much havoc.

"You see, Mathilde?" Mr Hector smiles, his voice like a glacier. "I told you that she couldn't have gotten in here. It's perfectly safe." Then he turns to us. "Now, as for you two…"

But I don't wait to let him finish.

Regardless of the stabbing pain in my torso, I pounce at Mathilde, knocking her backwards into one of the metal walls. Jerking off one shoe, I toss it across the room into Dimitri's waiting hand, and use the other to threaten the woman who is now on the offensive.

We spar for a minute, dodging around each other in the limited space, and I hear Dimitri doing the same behind me. Her eyes flicker briefly to her compatriot locked in combat, and I use her momentary distraction as an opportunity to plunge forward with my heel, which deals a nasty scratch to the back of her hand.

She hisses in pain, focussing her attention back on me, and we resume our deadly dance. Something skitters across the floor.

 _Duck!_

The thought comes from out of the blue, and I don't have the time to question it. I drop to the floor just before Dimitri and Mr Hector fly across the room, knocking Mathilde over once more. The action hurts my ribs, and I cry out in pain, but it's lost in the almighty crash that explodes through the air as the pedestal goes down with them. Recovering my senses, I quickly scrabble around, looking for the thumb drive.

Just as I spot it, the other guards join in the fray. Before my fingers can close around the tiny object, the Strigoi that groped me earlier has it in his meaty fist. Relishing the opportunity to take revenge, I swing my arm in a graceful arc, plunging the charmed silver heel of my shoe into his cheek. He reels backward with a roar, scrabbling at his face, and I charge after him.

"Rose, there's no time! We have to get out!"

Dimitri, has blood all down the front of his suit, and the silver gleam of my other shoe in his hand is tinged with red.

I know he's right, but there's a knot in my stomach as I drop and roll to avoid the Strigoi's retaliatory swipe. On my way past, I manage to retrieve my shoe from his face, and Dimitri stakes him from behind while he's distracted. My breath is coming in painful gasps.

"They've called for backup," Dimitri informs me sprinting along down the hallway.

"So that gives us like a minute?"

"Yes."

We reach the hidden door to the staircase, and he practically flies down the stairs, taking them four at a time. It's hard for me to keep up with my shorter legs, but the sounds of pursuit emanating from behind us spur me on.

We meet two more guards in the corridor that I arrived in, but make short work of them, and, at long last, we find the door to the supply closet and the broken window beyond.

Dimitri hefts one of the shelves in front of the door to buy us some time, and then gives me a leg up. I don't know how the hell I manage to climb back over the fence, but I make it with his help. Every breath I take feels like I'm being stabbed in the chest. Gratefully, I sink to the ground.

"Rose?" Dimitri's face hovers above mine, strangely out of focus.

"We're alive," I whisper, a stupid smile sliding onto my face as my eyes drift closed.

"That's right," he murmurs.

The warmth of his hands underneath me brings to my attention just how cold I really am.

"Stay with me, Roza."

It sounds like he's speaking from very far away, and I want to tell him that of course, I will always stay with him. But the gentle swaying motion rocks me to sleep as he carries me back to safety, and my tongue is far too heavy to say anything.

That familiar smell is in my nose; Dimitri and leather and blood.

* * *

Author's Note

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! Please drop a review to let me know what you thought. Your feedback is always fantastic to hear, be it praise or criticism, and I promise that I read every review, even if I'm not so great at replying. This chapter is unbeta'd, so if you come across any mistakes, or if something doesn't make sense, please let me know. If you'd like to keep in the loop with my sporadic updating, feel free to favourite and follow.  
**

 **I cannot believe how much I've written. Or how many of you have read and enjoyed it. Honestly, I'm blown away. Going back to the first couple of chapters, I can already see an improvement in my writing, and I'm just so thankful that y'all have allowed and encouraged me to make that happen. Sadly, this particularfic is drawing to a close. I have no idea when I'll post the next and final chapter, but I am writing a couple of other fics too, and you haven't heard the last of me. I have finally found a job, so YAY. But that also means I won't have as much free time. So. We'll see how that goes. Thanks for sticking with me regardless.**

 **The VA universe and the characters therein are the sole intellectual property of Richele Mead.**


	19. Chapter 19

"What happened?"

Lissa and Christian sit side by side on a loveseat nearby. Green eyes and blue regard me with overt curiosity, that they've had to suppress until I felt up to filling them in.

I'm sitting up in bed, propped against several needlessly regal looking pillows. What little I remember of the trip back home to the palace is cloudy and painful, and even with Lissa's help, my ribcage is still very tender. Dimitri sits by my side, grasping my hand in a way that lets me know he hasn't left that spot since we got here. Apparently it was a punctured lung, and a bit of a close call.

My poor Russian god. We haven't had time to speak properly, but I can feel his worry radiating in waves. Between reliving his Strigoi self once more, and my latest near death experience, he's been stretched pretty thin.

 _There'll be plenty of time to talk later. For him to try pretending that he's okay._

The familiar pain is back in his eyes, and it breaks my heart. In the meantime, I decide to give him what mental space I can, and launch into a retelling of our escapades since we left. Lissa and Christian make an excellent audience, laughing and gasping in all the right places.

I'm just telling them about infiltrating the compound when a knock sounds on the door. After a beat, Abe walks in wearing a lurid pink suit.

"The heroes return," he smirks, but underneath I can see his genuine concern.

Lissa gives him something of a glare, but he ignores her as he walks over to Dimitri and I, and plants a kiss on my forehead, much to my surprise.

"I'm very glad to have you back safe," he murmurs, for my ears only. When he turns around to shake Dimitri's hand, my jaw drops. After the exchange, I can see something almost like respect in both of their demeanours.

Finally, he turns to the loveseat. "Apologies for the interruption, your Majesties. I didn't want to miss the good part."

I take this as my cue to continue my retelling.

"…and then I blacked out," I finish. A brief silence falls.

"So…what happened?"

"What do you mean? I just told you what happened."

"Did you get the thumb drive?"

My eyes meet Abe's briefly. Can he see my shame like I can see his anxiety? Regardless, my gaze skitters away from his.

 _You should have done better. There is no excuse._

Next to me, I hear Dimitri reach out a hand, as if to console me. But his touch never comes. Late to the party, I do what everyone else did the moment he moved; stare in disbelief at the tiny proffered object in his palm.

"You got it?" exclaims an awestruck Christian.

"And you simply wanted to, what? Not tell us before now so you could reveal it for maximum dramatic effect?"

Dimitri shrugs. "I forgot."

Can anybody else hear the pain in his hoarse voice? I just want to take him away from here, away from all this. But I know that saving him is going to be a lot more work than that.

In response to the giddy relief that sweeps through the room, making even Abe give a genuine smile, Dimitri frowns. "But I have no idea if this is the right one or not."

As reality dawns on her, Lissa's face pales. "It could be the decoy."

"Well, only one way to find out," Abe says, with effortless bravado. Not many people could affect a swagger like the one he deploys to retrieve the flash drive, especially not at a time like this.

He heads over to the other room where the state of the art TV is, and we all wait with bated breath.

"This is the right one!" he calls after a moment. His face is alight with excitement when he next enters the room, but then it dulls.

"Your Majesties," he says, turning to the Royals. "I am aware that I handled this situation badly. You must understand that in my line of work, if I were to disappear, countless people would sleep easier." He takes a breath, and then extends the flash stick to Christian. "Be that as it may, I would be grateful if you would dispose of this. It's too dangerous to continue, and you have my word that I will destroy all other copies."

Christian simply nods, and the room fills with the acrid smell of burning plastic.

"I am curious though. What would happen if they checked the other one, the decoy?"

I can't help but smile. "Then they will encounter a heavily encrypted Russian recipe for dealing with a hangover."

Even Dimitri laughs at that.

"Well, I guess all well that ends well," Lissa says, as they all begin to exit the room. "We'll give you some time to rest, Rose."

I have to ask before she goes.

"Oh, hey Liss? How much spirit is left in this thing?"

I hold up my hand, with the silver ring on it. Dutifully she crosses back over to me, and touches it briefly.

"It's still pretty strong," she reports. "Why?"

"I just want to know when I'm going to need a refill."

"Okay. Well it won't be for another few weeks."

"Thanks."

She nods, and takes her leave.

Finally, I can focus on Dimitri, who simply remains sitting there. He stares at nothing; mind clearly a thousand miles away. That haunted look that he was beginning to lose when we were with his family is now back in the edges of the small smile that he gives me. He looks sad.

"Hey, Comrade," I say gently. "It's not all bad."

I reach out to touch his face with my fingertips. His jaw is starting to get prickly again, and I can't help but smile. Like his, my smile is tinged with sadness; sadness that he had to go through all of that, just when he was starting to find himself again.

"Everything will be okay."

His eyes meet mine, and I can see that he desperately wants to believe me.

"I guess we'll see," he replies. His voice is husky from lack of sleep.

"Here." I scooch over in the bed and lift up the covers in invitation. He hesitates.

"There is room for two."

"I don't want to hurt you," he says.

"You won't. Come on."

Finally, he accepts, sliding off his shoes before joining me. It seems crazy that after everything we've been through, I can still get totally absorbed by his warmth, and the feeling of his body next to mine. Gingerly, he wraps an arm around my waist, and I entwine my fingers in his hair to pull him closer.

We stay like this, cuddling, enjoying each other in this moment we've been given. Gradually, his breathing becomes deeper and more regular, and eventually he falls asleep.

" _Ya tebya lyubly,_ " I whisper in his ear.

" _Ya lyublyu tyebya fsyei dusho_." I love you with all of my soul.

The safe moment shatters, and my blood runs cold. Dimitri is asleep. His lips did not move. And even if they had, if he had been the one to say it, it wouldn't be in that voice filled with nightmares.

I hope against hope that I somehow imagined it, but the sinking feeling in my stomach tells me that I know better. Slowly, filled with dread, I turn my head to look behind me.

There he is.

Strigoi Dimitri laughs darkly as my eyes widen. He's perched on the dresser, the picture of nonchalance, while his cold red eyes appraise me.

"You can't be here," I whisper. "I asked Lissa. There's still spirit in the ring."

He smirks, flashing his razor sharp fangs. "You can't get rid of me, Roza. I'm part of you. You didn't appreciate my little hints while you were in the compound?"

I dimly remember random thoughts popping into my head, saving my skin more than once. Realization dawns, chilling as moonlight. I should really have known.

"That was you."

He laughs again, like broken glass. The sound sends involuntary shivers down my spine. In his sleep, the real Dimitri snuggles closer to me, and I try to focus on his warmth.

"You know you can't tell him this time," Strigoi Dimitri states, clearly enjoying himself. "My poor dhampir self is weak and vulnerable, and you need to protect him. Can't go making him worry about his crazy girlfriend at a time like this, can you?"

I close my eyes, as if that will drown out the truth in his words. "Go away."

"You need to be strong for him."

"Shut up."

"And he's already so worried about scaring you off with his past."

"I said shut up!"

Dimitri stirs next to me. "Everything okay?" he groggily mumbles.

I try to make my voice soothing, to disguise my rising panic. "Everything is fine. Go back to sleep."

I press a kiss to his forehead and he obeys. I try to ignore the chuckling coming from behind me.

"Oh Roza. This is going to be so much fun."

* * *

Author's Note

* * *

 **Thank you so, so much for reading! This is the final chapter, and you have no idea how grateful I am to all of you who have been reading and encouraging! Please let me know what you thought of this chapter by leaving a review, and if you enjoyed this story, please feel free to follow and favourite! Also, apologies for any mistakes, as this fic is unBeta'd.  
**

 **It's been a long wait. I know. I'm sorry. I had a complete block with this fic for the longest time, and then work and stuff got in the way. I'm kind of sad that this one is over. It's the longest fic I've ever written, and even though the first few chapters make me cringe, I'm pretty proud of the result. Thank you so much for sticking with me, and for your constant support and feedback! I will be posting other stories, so if you'd like to check them out, feel free.**

 **The VA universe and the characters therein are the sole intellectual property of Richelle Mead.**


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